Hogwarts Redux
by purpleheart72
Summary: Well, they've gotten together, but can they make it work? The unlikely couple of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have embarked on the riskiest adventure since the end of the War of the wizarding world...each other.  **Sequel to Hogwarts Revisited!**
1. A Conversation

**This is my favorite of all the fanfics I've ever written. Hopefully what you're about to read will give you a small idea as to why...**

**Chapter 1—A Conversation**

Hermione Granger sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. "Draco…Draco, I really do have to talk to you about something."

Draco Malfoy sighed. Hermione had a tendency to do that. Whenever things would start to get hot and heavy between them, she would often panic, pull away, and start _talking_. It was annoying yet amusing to him at the same time. Annoying because she would always pull away when it was just starting to get really good; amusing because she was always so cute when she was disconcerted. He leaned back in his chair, smirking at her and taking in her disheveled appearance while she attempted to conduct herself in as dignified a manner as possible, every inch the Head Girl. He knew better, though. He knew that the Head Girl was the best kisser he'd ever managed to get his hands on.

"…we always have to be alone, we never get to hang out with anyone else," she was saying.

Damn. This sounded like one of those conversations that he'd actually have to _listen_ to instead of checking out how good she looked in her school skirt. He ran a hand through his hair to clear his head. "Say that again?"

She was beginning to look a might perturbed. "Are you even _listening_ to me?" she said in an acerbic tone.

He gave her his best evil leer. "You really want me to answer that question?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. She really was cute when she was annoyed at him, which was quite often. "As I was _saying_…" she went on as if he hadn't answered, "I was just wondering why whenever we spend time together, we always have to be alone, how come we—"

Granger, Granger, Granger. Always worrying about things that didn't matter. He interrupted her with a deep kiss. For about a tenth of a second she resisted, then fell into her characteristically enthusiastic response. He slid his hand up her neck and began to entwine it in her curls as his lips moved to her ear. "Because when we're alone, I can do _this_," he whispered in her ear just before he gently nipped her earlobe.

She shivered for a moment, but then gave him a gentle push. "I'm serious about this, Draco. We've been dating for almost a month now and this skulking about in hallways and empty classrooms all the time is getting a bit tiresome, don't you think?"

_Not really. I can get away with a lot more if I don't have to worry about an audience._ But he knew that saying _that_ would not go over well at all. He let out a slow sigh of frustration, hesitating before he said something that would inevitably put his foot in his mouth.

His hesitation was making her self-conscious. She was looking down at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. "I would just like us to maybe meet up with some friends from time to time," she said in a small voice. "So they could see how happy I am." Color rose in her cheeks.

She always managed to do that to him. Without any pretense whatsoever, she could melt his heart with a few chosen words. She was the only person he had ever known who had never manipulated him in any way, yet made him feel more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his entire life. It was still taking some getting used to.

Draco sighed. He knew he was going to have to give in on this one; it obviously meant a lot to her. "What friends are you talking about? Potter and the Weasels?" he said in a voice that was harder than he had intended.

Hermione was still looking at her hands. "Well, yes, eventually…but it wouldn't have to be right away. I guess we could start with your friends first if that would make you more comfortable..?" She looked up at him hopefully.

Ugh. Bad idea. Any of the old crew that he used to hang out with wouldn't have anything to do with Hermione if their life depended on it. They still clung to their old pureblood prejudices, in spite of all that had happened in the great wizarding War. As for him, Hermione had slowly cured him of that. When he came back to Hogwarts to complete his final year after the War, he was a bit of an outcast due to his former Death Eater status. Everyone had pretty much avoided him except for Hermione. She seemed to understand him when no one else did, mainly due to the fact that she had seen as much betrayal and death as he had, and was trying to pick up the pieces of her life just as he was. She was brave, caring and true, and he would be damned if he was going to let anybody treat her like troll fodder.

He waved her suggestion away. "Might as well jump right into the fire and get the whole blasted thing over with. Potter and the Weasels it is," he grumbled. He knew this was going to happen sooner or later, but he was not at all looking forward to it.

"Really? You mean it?" Hermione's face lit up.

"Yeah…I guess so…" he finished reluctantly.

"Thank you so much Draco, it really means a lot to me." She looked buoyant and a great deal more relaxed now. Just the kind of mood he was hoping to put her back into. He wound his hand back in her hair and slid the other over her hip as she hugged him. Not quite was he was hoping for, but pleasant nonetheless. He pulled her in close.

"So, Granger, feel free to show your gratitude for my magnanimous gesture," he said as the hand he had on her hip started to creep towards her bum.

She gave him a tart little smile. "Is that the only reason you agreed to do it?" she asked as his hand reached his intended destination and gave her a little squeeze.

"You know me, Granger. I'm an opportunist."

"You aren't as bad as you make yourself out to be. You're a lot nicer than—"

He silenced her with another deep kiss, finally succeeding in distracting her from conversation. He couldn't let her finish what she had started to say, anyway. After all, his reputation as the biggest prat at Hogwarts was at stake, and there were some things in one's life that you should always be able to depend on.

**Yeah! Written from Malfoy's point of view, which means he's going to be in _every part_ of this story! I just love getting into this character's head...hope everybody is enjoying it so far. Thanks so much to all of you who are following _Hogwarts Revisited_ into this one-I will especially appreciate reviews from those of you who reviewed that story as well.  
Purpleheart72**


	2. A Debate

Chapter 2—A Debate

A few hours later, Draco was sprawled out at his usual spot at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He preferred it there because it was fairly isolated. Now that McGonagall, the Headmistress, had disbanded all of the Hogwarts Houses everyone pretty much sat where they liked, with the exception of the former Slytherins. They preferred to keep to themselves, and they also seemed to prefer to keep Draco at a distance, which was just how he wanted it. Most people at this school just got on his nerves anyway. With his feet propped up rather arrogantly on the bench, he took a bite out of his Beef Wellington and turned the page of a Quidditch magazine he was reading.

Just then, a voice came from above. "Is this seat taken?" He looked up from his magazine in surprise; Hermione was standing there with her supper tray and an expression on her face that was both hopeful and anxious. Just over her shoulder he could see Ginny Weasley, also holding a tray with an expression on her face that clearly said, _I don't think that this is such a good idea._ He was sure that he had the exact same expression on his face.

Unsure if honesty was the best policy in this situation—his first inclination was to answer, _Sit here, Weasley, and I'll hex you into oblivion. Granger, on the other hand, can feel free to sit right on my lap_—Draco hesitated. He wasn't sure what to say because he never lied to Hermione, but he knew a refusal would hurt her feelings terribly. _Blast_. What was it about her that brought out his soft side? He didn't even know that he _had_ a soft side, and right now it was highly inconvenient.

Hermione, it seemed, decided to take matters into her own hands. She pushed some of his paraphernalia off to the side to make room for herself and Ginny. "Five minutes, just give it five minutes," she said under her breath to him as Ginny moved to the other side of Hermione to sit down.

Draco let out a slow sigh of exasperation. "All right," he muttered back. "But you owe me."

He shuffled his things to give them a little more room, but continued to keep his feet insolently propped up on the bench where he was sitting, forcing them to sit on the bench on the opposite side. He could tell Hermione was not too happy about that. _Too bad, Granger,_ he thought. _You're the one who wanted to sit here._

As Hermione got settled, Draco noticed Ginny was looking at Hermione with an _I hope you know what you're doing _look. At this, Draco took a big bite of his supper, but the Beef Wellington now tasted like sawdust in his mouth. He was definitely less than thrilled about the situation; he didn't like people much, particularly self-righteous little Gryffindors who thought they were the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts since indoor plumbing.

"So," Hermione began in an over-bright tone (which meant she was extremely nervous), "How has your day been going so far?"

_What an inane attempt at conversation._ He almost snorted out loud, but with great restraint managed not to do so. "Fine," he answered in a clipped tone and took a swig of pumpkin juice.

Ginny was looking at him with an odd expression on her face, as if she was trying to figure out just what the hell he was. _Pipsqueak, _he thought uncharitably.

Hermione was grasping at straws. "Anything good happen today?"

_Yeah, I think my favorite part of the day was where I cornered you in the empty Charms classroom and practically snogged your lips off._ He could see that probably wouldn't be the best thing to say considering the situation, so in an attempt to stall he took a bite of roasted potato. This was really difficult. Being polite was a totally foreign concept to him and he had no idea what to say.

Hermione was looking at him anxiously with those big brown eyes of hers. _Bloody hell. _Draco had always been a sucker for big brown eyes. It was the only way Pansy had lasted as long as she did with him—she used to drive him up the wall, but then she would give him her big, dark eyed stare…

It was nothing compared to Hermione's, however. Hermione's eyes were not only bigger and longer-lashed than Pansy's, they were also free of malice; and right now they were just pleading with him until he felt like he was getting lost in them. _Aw…man…_

"It was okay," he heard himself saying in a slightly bored tone. She looked disappointed with his response, so he tried one more thing. "Maybe Slughorn's detention tonight will perk things up," he added saucily.

He was finally finishing up the month's worth of detentions he'd been assigned by Professor Slughorn. Both he and Hermione had been given 2 solid weeks of detention after she blew up the Potions dungeon following a disagreement they were having, but Draco had ended up with an additional 2 weeks after he snarkily commented in the subsequent Potions lesson about why on earth a would a walrus choose to teach in a dungeon anyhow. Didn't they prefer to be near water?

"Are you _still_ in detention with him?" Apparently Ginny's curiosity overrode her misgivings.

"Yep. Tonight's my last night." He folded his hands behind his head.

"How have you been able to get to your team's Quidditch practices?"

"I haven't. I practice on my own when I have time, and try to read up on things…" he gestured to the magazine in front of him.

Ginny's eyes grew round as she picked up the Quidditch magazine. "Is this the latest issue? I hear they have a great interview in it with Gwenog Jones…"

Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad to have a conversation with the Weaselette. She really knew her Quidditch and they ended up having a heated debate over top teams that lasted for nearly an hour.

"Yeah, yeah, Weasley, _everybody_ likes the Montrose Magpies, big deal! They're a bunch of saps though, compared to the Falcons."

"The Falmouth Falcons? They play dirty, Malfoy!"

"So what's your point?"

Hermione, who was never a big Quidditch fan, opted not to join the conversation. Instead, she sat back and quietly ate her supper with a complacent smile. Draco made a mental note to kiss that smug look off her face later when he got her alone.

Supper finally ended and Ginny wandered off to find the members of her Quidditch team; apparently she had gotten a few ideas for plays from their conversation. Hermione remained in her seat and continued to give him that self-satisfied little smile of hers. "Do I still owe you?" she finally asked.

"Hell, yeah, Granger; you know I don't like people."

"I know," she returned, her expression becoming more serious. "I just don't know if this self-imposed exile of yours is such a good thing."

_Oh great, here she goes with her with her Miss-Smarty-Pants-Talk._ "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Draco, you're _always_ alone except when you're with me. That can't be good."

"So is this your attempt to 'save me', Granger?" He could hear himself getting a little riled. He didn't need anyone to change him; he was fine just the way he was, thank you.

Her expression became more determined. _Stubborn Gryffindor_, he thought. He had to admire her—most people backed right down whenever he became angry. "I'm not trying to change you, Draco, I'm simply trying to give you more friends. Only _you_ would see that as a problem!"

"What if I don't want them, Granger?"

She folded her arms and raised her eyebrow at him. "You didn't seem to have much of a problem five minutes ago."

He glared at her for a moment. He wasn't ready to admit that talking to the Weaselette wasn't so bad—it meant that next would come Scarhead Potter and The Weasley King, and he _really_ wasn't ready for that just yet. "Give me a break; this polite and friendly crap just isn't my style," he grumbled.

She got up and squeezed herself next to him at the bench he was sitting. "I know. But I wouldn't be so persistent if I didn't think this would be good for you." She put her head on his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. _Damn it, those eyes again._ "You'll just have to trust me."

He groaned. This was one adventure he would _not_ be looking forward to.


	3. A Distraction

Chapter 3—A Distraction

The next day, Hermione was waiting for Draco in the hallway to walk with him to Potions. This wasn't normal; typically, she would meet up with him after the lesson (she wanted to stay on Slughorn's good side by _not_ sitting next to Draco in class), so Draco immediately knew something was up.

He approached her and looked down at her in what he was sure was an intimidating manner. "What?" he demanded.

She grinned up at him and went up on tiptoe to peck him on the mouth. _Don't start something you don't want to finish, Granger._ "I just thought it would be nice to walk to class together, is all," she said brightly.

"Did you?" he said, suspicion evident in his voice.

"Yes, I did. Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Fine. Here, gimme," He reached out, took her bookbag and slung it over his free shoulder and they began to walk down the hall.

After about a minute, Draco realized what she was up to. Although they had been dating for nearly a month, they were rarely seen together by the other students. It hadn't been intentional on his part; he just disliked being around people and instead chose routes to class that were relatively deserted, typically haunting areas no one else went. It seemed to have become a pattern of his since the beginnings of the Wizarding War back in his sixth year. Hermione was now forcing him to walk to class down a very populated corridor for everyone to see. Last night's supper with Hermione and the Weaselette could have been chalked up as an isolated incident, but seeing him and Hermione together _again_ was an event that was shocking, titillating and positively enthralling to the rest of the student body. A few even stopped in mid-stride and flat out stared at the two of them as they walked down the hall together. _Oh, for crying out loud,_ Draco thought. _Get a life._

They finally reached the Potions dungeon (it had become habitable once again through both his and Hermione's cleaning efforts during their detention stint), and Draco went to hand Hermione her bookbag so that she could take her usual seat at the front of the class. She stopped him.

"That's okay; I'll sit with you today," she said.

He raised a platinum eyebrow at her. "Slughorn won't like it," he warned her. He figured that ought to make her Head Girlness kick in at full throttle and she would stop with whatever it was she was trying to prove.

Apparently not. "Well, we just won't give him any cause to worry," she replied with a smile, and plunked down in the seat next to his usual place.

_Oh, won't we? _Draco now wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong. It was as if she had thrown down the gauntlet, and he was being asked to rise to the challenge. However, being as he had _finally_ finished his detention run with Slughorn last night—he was looking forward to some free nights, preferably with Hermione in a secluded corridor somewhere…

Draco was still mulling over what he was going to do about the little "situation" Hermione put him in while Slughorn entered the room. After a wary look at the two of them, the portly instructor began to lecture about some Godforsaken obscure potion theory.

Hermione, of course, began to write down every single word Professor Slughorn was saying. The amount of notes she was able to take in a single period never ceased to amaze him. Draco, on the other hand, decided against taking notes today. He had other goals in mind—namely, showing Hermione Granger that he was not some whipping boy for her to mold into whatever she pleased. However, he figured that he would take it easy on her this time and do it with more finesse than brute force; he'd even give old Sluggy a break today, what the hell.

As Hermione continued to scribble furiously, Draco slowly slid his foot over until it was touching hers. He could hear her pause for a moment; then resume writing. He then hooked his foot around the back of hers and pulled it closer to him. Again, Hermione hesitated, this time she shooting him a look of warning. _Heh heh…she'd jump off the Astronomy tower before letting on that she's brassed off at me and cause another commotion in Slughorn's class._

Draco waited a minute or two in order to lull Hermione into a false sense of security as she continued to dutifully copy notes. Just as Slughorn was blabbering something along the lines of "Now _this_ part requires extra focus," Draco slid his hand over her knee and gave it a squeeze. _Yeah, take _that,_ Granger. Uh oh, _he realized with his hand firmly on her knee_. This might not have been such a great idea…it could backfire on me. _His body was reacting._ Her leg is really silky…mmmm… _He began to run his hand up her leg…

_BLAM!_

Hermione had hauled off and sent him a swift kick to the shin.

"_Bugger!"_ Draco swore vehemently. _That girl has got one powerful kick._

"Mr. Malfoy! What is the meaning of this?" Slughorn was glaring at him with a look that seemed to say, _Not _you_, not again._

"Sorry, Professor, guess I got a bit carried away with what you were saying," he managed to choke out over the pain of his throbbing shin. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Hermione had the expression on her face she wore whenever she was trying to hold back a snicker. _Little minx; I'll get you for that one._

Slughorn seemed to buy the lame-ass excuse. He was probably so fed up with Draco at this point that he would pretty much accept _any_ excuse just so he could continue the lesson in peace. He turned back to the blackboard and Hermione continued to copy her notes as if nothing had happened, but she did have a smug little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she scribbled away. Draco glared at her as his shin continued to throb.

_Okay, Granger, you may have won this little battle,_ Draco thought, _but this is FAR from being over._


	4. Making Mischief

Chapter 4—Making Mischief

Potions class had finally ended and Hermione quickly packed up her things and began to head out of the classroom. Apparently she was a bit miffed at Draco for attempting to feel her up during class. Draco wasn't very concerned about her being angry or not—she never stayed mad at him for long and he could always charm his way out of anything. Besides, his shin still hurt like a sonafabitch. He had to pay her back for that one, and he already had a few ideas. He had spent the rest of the period in Potions coming up with evil game plans while Hermione practically wore down her quill with the amount of notes that she had taken during the class.

As he exited the classroom, he quickly caught up to Hermione because she had been stopped in the hallway by Parvati Patil, the biggest gossip of their year. Parvati was excitedly whispering to her in a low tone, obviously telling her some mindless drivel that most of her type thought was important. Hermione looked like she was trying to escape—Draco knew that she had as little patience for Parvati Patil as he did, which was practically non-existent. He decided he could rescue Hermione from Parvati's vapid story and get her back for kicking him all in one fell swoop, so he began to approach Hermione from behind.

She didn't even notice he was there—her main focus seemed to be on finding a way to get away from Parvati without being too rude—which served his purposes perfectly. He swooped up behind Hermione and smacked her soundly on her bum. _Damn, she's firm,_ Draco thought with an admiring smirk.

Parvati was staring at him in shock, her mouth hanging open. Hermione had tensed, but hadn't turned around just yet, which meant that now she was incredibly annoyed at him.

"What's shaking, baby?" he said in an overly loud, obnoxious voice. Loud enough to get more than a few students who were passing by in the hallway to stop and take notice. Hermione slowly turned and gave him a look that would have frozen hot lava. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her and gave her one of his most passionate, toe-curling kisses. Then, before he got too carried away, he released her, gave her bum another quick squeeze and said, "Catch you later, hot stuff." _So you want all your little friends to know what's going on, eh? Let's see you explain _that _one, Granger._

He caught a quick glimpse of Parvati before he sauntered away—she looked like she was about to explode from so much gossip material occurring right in front of her face. Hermione, on the other hand, had just stood there, possibly frozen in shock.

Draco realized as he was walking away that a sea of students had parted to give him a clear berth. They were staring back and forth between him and Hermione in utter fascination. With mild curiosity, he wondered how long it would take for news of this to get around the school. _Probably about 5 minutes, with Parvati on the scene,_ he mused. _Ah, well._ He was used to being talked about, being a Malfoy and all. At least they would be talking about something interesting.

By the time supper rolled around, the bum-smacking incident had not only traveled throughout the entire school, it had metamorphosed into a story of epic proportions. Was Draco Malfoy under the influence of some sort of love potion? _As if I'd be stupid enough to fall for something like that._ Was he getting revenge on Hermione Granger for getting him detention_? Like I'd need Granger to get me detention…I'm practically a professional in that department. _And his personal favorite: Was Draco Malfoy keeping Hermione Granger as some sort of private love slave? He laughed all the way to the Great Hall when he heard that one.

_Ah…finally some peace and quiet_. Draco had settled into his usual isolated spot at the end of the Slytherin table, surrounded by his moat of belongings. _And I won't have to worry about Hermione bringing the Weaselette over, because she's still pissed at me for giving Patil and pretty much the rest of the student body a little show. _Not that last night's supper had been so terrible, but he was used to things a certain way; he had been basically a loner since his sixth year. _I'll just catch her later, one-on-one as usual and snog her until she forgets that she's mad at me._

Peace and quiet…wishful thinking. "Malfoy, what's going on with you?" Draco looked up to see Harper, Nott and Zabini standing in a cluster, looking down at him with disapproving frowns. Zabini was a bit behind Harper and Nott; he was most likely reluctant to get too close to him being as Draco had busted Zabini's lip over a month ago after he had insulted Hermione.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Draco growled.

"Word is around the school that you're fooling around with—" Nott began.

"—muggleborns," Zabini cut in. Nott had been about to use another word, but that had been the word that had elicited Draco's violent reaction a month past. Draco had to smirk at that. Firstly, because he never would have believed that a time would come when he would no longer tolerate prejudicial slurs, and secondly, because Blaise Zabini was obviously still pretty damn afraid of him. _Good, you Mary-Alice, _Draco thought. _You _should_ be scared. _

Draco sneered arrogantly up at them. "I take it there's a problem?" he said in a deceptively calm voice, punctuating it with a bite of asparagus.

Harper folded his arms and continued to give him a condemning glare. "Yeah, there's a problem. There was a time when you wouldn't be caught dead being anywhere near a—"

"—muggleborn," Zabini interrupted again. _Heh heh...Nancy-boy. _Draco was finding this downright entertaining.

He took his sweet time answering, knowing the hesitation was all the more irritating to them. After taking a sip of pumpkin juice, he slowly set his glass down, folded his hands between his chin and smirked up at them. "So?"

Nott clenched his fists. "So, you're making us look bad, Malfoy! Us Slytherins are the only ones in this school who're trying to maintain our dignity!"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"We don't mix our table with other tables, and we certainly don't waste our time hanging out with…" Behind Harper, Zabini had sucked in his breath. "…muggleborns," Harper finished with loathing in his voice.

Draco flattened both of his palms on the table and glowered at them. "You'd better not be trying to tell me what to do," he enunciated carefully in a low tone that was dripping with warning. He rebelled against Hermione because he felt that she had been trying to tell him what to do, which always rankled him, but at least he cared about her. These blokes were nothing to him and had absolutely no business reproaching him. He could feel his temper beginning to rise. Zabini must have detected it, because even though he was standing behind Nott and Harper, he had taken a step back, tugging a bit on both Nott and Harper's sleeves.

Nott, always the stupider of the two, continued to press his point. "If you're not with us, you're against us, Malfoy. We don't want anybody at our table who's not a _real Slytherin_."

Draco stood up. Zabini broke away from Nott and Harper and hastened to the opposite end of the long Slytherin table. "You wouldn't know a real Slytherin if he hexed you in the face," Draco said in a dangerous tone, reaching for his wand.

"Is everything all right, boys?" came a voice from behind Draco. He turned around but saw no one behind him. Then he looked down. Tiny Professor Flitwick was standing there with an inquiring smile on his face.

"No, Professor Flitwick. Malfoy was just leaving," Harper said, emphasizing the word _leaving_.

Flitwick seemed to sense that there was more to it than that. "Is that so, Mr. Malfoy?" He was looking at Draco very closely.

Professor Flitwick was one of the few professors that Draco didn't have much of a problem with, probably because Flitwick in particular expressed concern for those students who were at school that had been present for the Final Battle at Hogwarts. He always gave Draco plenty of space during Charms, and even though Flitwick had caught him outside of his dormitory once or twice after curfew, he had never reported him.

Draco was reluctant to give Flitwick a problem, so he decided to bide his time and get back at the Slytherin Sods later. "Yeah, Professor, I just saw something pretty _disgusting_ and lost my appetite." And with that, he shot a threatening glare at Nott and Harper, quickly gathered up his things and swept out of the Great Hall without a backward glance.


	5. Making Amends

Chapter 5—Making Amends

Draco stomped back towards his dormitory. He figured he'd eat his supper there being as no one would be around for a couple of hours. _This is why I don't like people_, he thought angrily. _Thick-headed prats._ Still acting like the War had never happened—where had they been over the past year? Mars? _Or Uranus, more likely._ It was a good thing he had gotten out of there when he did, otherwise he probably would have ended up in detention until Boxing Day.

The walk back to the dormitory did nothing to cool his anger, especially when he saw Ginny Weasley waiting for him near the entrance to the Slytherin common room with her arms folded and her foot tapping impatiently. _Bloody hell, what _now?

Normally, he would have pushed right past the Weaselette with nothing for her save one of his best insults, but he knew that Hermione would hear about it eventually, and well…he figured that he had pushed her buttons enough for one day.

Instead, he simply put out a hand as Ginny approached him. "Clear off, Weasley. I'm really not in the mood," he warned her.

"Tough nuts, Malfoy! Hermione's hiding out in her dorm because she's too embarrassed to come down to supper. And it's all _your_ fault."

The news made him forget his anger. "_What?_ What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you know by now that Parvati Patil had a field day with your little exhibition after Potions. Now it's all over school that you're keeping Hermione as some sort of love slave or something!"

At that, Draco snorted.

"It's not funny, Malfoy! You know as well as I do how much her reputation means to her. And now you've wrecked it," Ginny was seething with righteous anger for her friend.

"I have not," he drawled. "I think it would take a lot more than one snog in a hallway to sully the rep of the Most Illustrious Head Girl of Hogwarts, for Merlin's sakes."

She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at his blasé comment. "You know, I thought that the War had changed you, but maybe I was wrong. Does it really matter if her reputation is ruined or not? All I know is that my friend's feelings are really hurt right now, and that's all that _I_ care about. And maybe you should, too." And with that, she tossed her head and strode off down the hall.

_Merlin's balls._ Apparently he had pushed Hermione too far. He hadn't meant to; he just wasn't ready for everything that she had been throwing at him. The only person that he was ready to give his trust to was her. The thought of trying to make friends with people he had hated for over seven years felt like an insurmountable task to him, as well as undesirable.

Draco let out a breath; he hadn't realized until just then that he had been holding it. With a gesture of frustration, he pushed his way through the common room entrance and stormed up to his room. He threw his things in the nearest corner and flopped down onto his bed. He lay there for a minute or two, glaring up at the canopy. _Damn, damn, damn_. At this point he was starving because he had barely gotten three bites of his supper, but he couldn't think past Hermione being holed up in her room all upset.

_Bugger me._ With a growl, he leapt off of the bed and hastened towards the Gryffindor common room, swearing to himself under his breath the entire way.

When he got there, he realized that he had no way of getting to Hermione. There was a portrait of a rather porky lady in a pink dress, staring back at him in an extremely suspicious manner. "Password?" she said skeptically.

_Blimey._ How the hell was he supposed to get in? This was ridiculous; there were supposedly no more houses anymore, so why was he being asked for a password? Thanks to Saint Potter…wait a minute… "_Harry Potter,_" he said slowly, with great distaste.

The chubby lady gave him an approving smile. "Correct," she said, and the portrait swung open to reveal the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

Draco purposefully marched into the room, searching intently for Hermione. He encountered Ginny Weasley sitting in a chair by the fireplace, staring at him over the Quidditch magazine he had lent her, with a look of utter surprise on her face.

He didn't even give her a chance to say anything. "Where's Hermione?" he demanded.

Wordlessly, she pointed towards the nearest staircase. He immediately strode towards it, but Ginny called out, "Wait, wait, you can't go up there!"

"Don't try to stop me, Weasley!" he shot back as he continued to head to the staircase. He got as far as the third or fourth step before the entire staircase collapsed and he slid down it backwards and landed in a heap at Ginny Weasley's feet.

Ginny bent over to get a closer look at him. She was obviously trying to hold back a laugh. "I tried to tell you, Malfoy. This castle doesn't seem to trust boys in the girl's dormitories," she said with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He must have looked pretty ridiculous sliding down that staircase. _Bloody Weaselette._ At least she didn't laugh outright, but Draco made a mental note to make sure that he took his Quidditch magazine with him when he left.

The commotion seemed to have roused Hermione. She was rushing down the staircase; it had immediately righted itself as soon as he had slid off of it. "Draco! What are you doing here?" she said with confusion.

Ginny was still grinning at the spectacle. "I think I'll just leave the two of you alone," she said with a glance at the two of them, as she tucked the magazine under her arm and slipped up the stairs. _Dammit, Weasley, that's _my_ magazine,_ Draco nearly said, but Hermione had knelt in front of him and her big brown eyes were staring down at him with a combination of concern and puzzlement. They were also a bit red-rimmed, which meant that she had obviously been crying. Draco felt like the world's biggest prat. "Are you all right?" she asked him in a soft voice.

After everything that he had put her through today, the first words out of her mouth were still concern for him. For a moment, he was speechless. He covered it by hauling himself up to a seated position so he could at least get back a small semblance of dignity.

This would be the perfect time to apologize, but apologies were not his strong suit. He never had much practice making them. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through his hair.

Hermione sat down in front of him. "What are you doing here?" she asked him again.

He felt like a fish out of water. Finally, he looked away from her and muttered, "You and the Weaselette never showed up for supper."

"Oh, really?" He looked back at her and she had a tiny, but smug grin on her face. "So you came all the way back here to find me? Just to have supper?"

Luckily, she could never seem to stay mad at him. "Well, that and other things…" he trailed off as he quirked an eyebrow at her suggestively.

She gave him a little shove, but she was still smiling at him. "So does this mean that we can sit with you at meals from now on?" she pressed.

_Stubborn, stubborn Gryffindor._ Well, he supposed he owed her as much, but he still didn't like the idea. "Yeah, whatever, Granger. Now can we get something to eat? I'm starving," he grumbled.

"Okay, what do you want?"

He smirked back at her and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. _Ah, much better._ He'd worry about the consequences of this conversation later. For now, he had more important things on his mind—namely a good snog and a good meal, in that order.


	6. Unexpected Assistance

Chapter 6—Unexpected Assistance

The next morning, Draco woke up in a pretty good mood. Even though the previous day had been rather troublesome, it had ended on a high note, followed by an excellent night's sleep. It was almost enough to get him to decide to ignore Nott, Harper and Zabini for yesterday's transgressions…almost, that is. Draco Malfoy was not the type of person to forgive and forget very easily, and those three had, in his opinion, committed a cardinal sin: attempting to reproach a Malfoy.

He figured that the best course of action would be to lull them into a false sense of security—let them think that they had gotten to him, and when they let their guard down (which wouldn't be long because none of them were all that gifted in the brains department anyway), he'd exact his revenge. Although just what that would be, Draco hadn't quite decided yet. He wasn't too worried about that part, however, because he had complete faith in his evil and creative mind.

As he approached the Great Hall for breakfast, he saw that Hermione and Ginny Weasley were standing just outside the double doors. They seemed to be waiting for something…or someone. Then Hermione noticed him and waved, and Ginny followed suit. _Bloody hell._ They were waiting for him. Not that he fully despised the Weaselette or anything, but he was not used to being so social, and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. But he did promise Hermione. _Damn_.

His step slowed as he approached the entrance, but Hermione rushed up to him to close the distance and gave him a quick peck on the mouth. He gave her a sardonic smile. "Watch it, or people might think you're my love slave or something."

She shrugged. "I'm starting to realize that people are going to think what they want to think, no matter what they see or hear," she said with a smile.

"Right on, Granger. Screw 'em all," he said as they continued towards the doors where Ginny was standing.

"Well, I wouldn't put it in exactly _those_ words…" Hermione said as she took his hand. That was something he didn't expect. Draco found himself staring down at their linked hands as Ginny asked, "In what words? What'd I miss?"

He shook himself back to reality as he looked up at Ginny and demanded, "Where's my magazine?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Malfoy."

"Yeah, yeah, good morning, blah, blah, blah, and all that crap. Where's my magazine?" He deliberately goaded her.

"I'm not done with it yet. I'm using it to devise a plan to flatten your team in the next Quidditch match."

"Geez, Weasley, if that's the case then I might not get it back before the new millennium," he cracked as the three of them entered the Great Hall.

About half of the students in the Great Hall immediately noticed their entrance, and he felt as if someone had cast an illumination spell over the three of them. Students' mouths fell open at the sight of Draco Malfoy standing hand in hand with Hermione Granger, with Ginny Weasley flanking his other side.

_Talk about a grand entrance,_ Draco mused. The shock mirrored on countless faces perversely appealed to Draco's rebellious nature. _Ha. They must think it's Doomsday after seeing this. Hell, a year ago, I would have thought so, too._ In a flash of inspiration, he realized how he was going to get back at the Slytherins. He let go of Hermione's hand, threw an arm around each girl and said loudly, "C'mon girls, I know _just the place_ we can sit."

Ginny was looking at him suspiciously, but allowed herself to be dragged along. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed thrilled that he was no longer fighting her on the seating arrangements and was practically skipping along in the direction he was taking them—his usual spot at the end of the Slytherin table.

_Oh, this ought to be just grand._ He dropped down onto the bench with a smirk as Hermione and Ginny joined him. _Wonder how long those gits will be able to stand it…I give it about 30 seconds_.

Hermione had started chattering off about some homework assignment when she was interrupted by, "What'd we tell you, Malfoy?"

_Hmmm…only 23 seconds. I was close, though._ He looked up to see Nott and Harper standing side by side with their arms folded. This time, Zabini was nowhere to be found.

"About what?" he asked innocently.

Harper glared at him. "You know what. Don't play dumb."

"Oh, right, that's _your_ job."

Nott clenched his fists at that remark; meanwhile, Harper loomed over Draco with a menacing expression. "_You're_ the one who's dumb, Malfoy. We warned you what would happen if you kept trying to taint our table with your…recent behavior."

"Yeah, and I look really scared, don't I?" Draco returned with a sneer.

"Whatever, Malfoy. Never thought I'd be saying this, but you're not Slytherin enough to sit here."

"Thank Merlin for that!" Ginny exclaimed. Draco, annoyed, simply gaped at her. He was about to set down Harper with a real crusher, and she totally stole his thunder.

"And don't you forget that Draco is a prefect. He can sit anywhere and with _anyone_ he chooses to." Hermione said in her best Head Girl manner.

What the hell was going on here? Why were Hermione and Ginny butting in? He had everything under control; he wasn't too pleased with this sudden turn of events.

The Slytherins were glaring at Hermione; before they could retort she had stood up and with a reproving expression on her face said in her most Hermioneish tone, "You know as well as anyone else that there are no more Houses here at Hogwarts, so you have no right to exile anyone from your table. If you have a problem, then _you_ can move, otherwise, leave us alone!"

Nott was practically shaking with anger. "How dare you, you…you…"

Ginny jumped up, wand drawn. "Say it, and I'll Bat-Bogey hex you into the next eon!"

_I don't believe this,_ Draco thought angrily. _I can't get a word in edgewise._

At that moment, Professor Flitwick seemed to appear out of nowhere. His eyes were darting between the mutinous looks on Harper and Nott's faces and Ginny's drawn wand. "What seems to be the problem here?"

Hermione turned to the tiny Professor. "Professor Flitwick, these two were attempting to exile us from the table…"

_Now she's tattling to Flitwick? This is totally humiliating_. _I don't need to be helped like some little child._ Uncomfortable and irritated, Draco gathered up his things and left the table. Hermione and Ginny were so involved in ratting out the Slytherins to Flitwick that they didn't initially notice his departure.

He had made it just outside the doors of the Great Hall when Hermione caught up to him. "Draco! Where are you going? Everything's all right now; Flitwick just gave those two troublemakers detention." She was panting a bit after running to catch up with him, but she also looked incredibly proud of herself. Ginny then materialized through the double doors, grinning. "That was great! Those two looked ready to spit nails!" She glanced at Draco. "Hey, why'd you run off, anyway?"

Draco's eyes narrowed as he looked at both Hermione and Ginny. They just didn't get it. "I didn't _run off_, Weasley. I lost my appetite," he said sullenly.

"Well I can see why, after having to deal with those prats. But they're gone now."

"Yes, come on, Draco, let's go back." Hermione moved closer to him and gave his sleeve a tug.

He shrugged her hand away. "What the hell just happened in there? Do you think I'm some sort of baby that needs to be taken care of?" he said angrily.

Hermione dropped her hand in astonishment. "No," she said, stunned. "I just wanted to help."

He turned on Ginny. "I guess you think I owe you too, now, just like your little Scarhead Potter, the four-eyed Saint, huh? Well, guess what, I didn't ask for your help! I had that entire situation under control!"

"_Owe me?_ What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ginny was totallly perplexed.

Hermione reached out for him again. "Draco, that's just what friends do; they look out for each other," she said in a soothing, sympathetic tone.

_No friend I ever had did anything like that,_ he thought suspiciously. Hermione had a bit of a pitying look on her face. He could practically hear what she was thinking: _Poor little Draco, he doesn't know what a real friend is…we'll just have to show him by introducing him to every Griffindor on the planet and hold hands with him and sing songs. _He wanted to gag. As much as she wanted to stuff him in a little box marked Gryffindor, the bottom line was that he was a Malfoy, not some whipped puppy on a leash.

"Stop looking at me like that." he told her. He did _not_ need anyone to feel sorry for him.

"Like what?" Draco, I'm just trying to help!" Hermione said in alarm.

"Save it, Granger. I don't want or need your help, okay? So just back off!" And with that, he stormed off down the hall.


	7. Disagreements

Chapter 7—Disagreements

Draco had made it about halfway back to his dormitory when Hermione finally caught up with him again. "Draco!" she latched on to his arm and somehow managed to spin him slightly so that she could face him. She was breathing heavily from exertion and anxiety. "You can't say something like that and just take off! We have to talk," she said beseechingly.

He didn't want to talk anymore. He just wanted to be alone so he could start feeling like himself again. "I've said all I have to say," he told her flatly.

"But you don't understand! We weren't trying to protect you, Draco."

He grimaced. "Yeah. Sure." he said sarcastically.

"I just don't like seeing anyone deliberately being cruel to someone else. And neither does Ginny. Maybe we butted in a little, but our hearts were in the right place," Hermione explained earnestly.

"Granger, I don't like this."

"Why?" Hermione was staring at him, her eyes huge and questioning in her anxious face. He looked away from her before he got lost in her wide-eyed gaze.

"First it's who I talk to, then it's where I sit. What's next, how I dress?"

"What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?"

"I'm not some little project of yours, so don't try to change me, and most of all, _don't_ try to feel sorry for me. And if you wanted a Gryffindor, you should have stayed with the Weasley King!" His voice was rising in agitation.

"I am _not_ trying to change you, and I don't want a Gryffindor! What I _did_ want was…" her voice trailed away and she looked at the floor self consciously.

"What? A trained monkey?" he snapped.

Hermione continued to stare at the floor. She let out a small sigh and finished softly, "I just wanted to be able to share more of my life with you because I…"

Draco assumed that she was stalling. Wanting some answers, he stepped in close so his face was about an inch or two away from hers. "Because _why_, Granger?" he pressed angrily.

Hermione's head whipped up; her nose was practically touching his. _Oh, hey, this is kinda hot…_ For a moment, pulling her in for a good hard snog flashed through his mind, but he stopped himself. _Focus, Draco, focus._ Hermione was glaring at him through watery eyes. "Because for some stupid reason, I really care about you, you stubborn arse!" she shouted back at him, and then whirled on her heel and took off down the hall.

_Bugger._ He hadn't seen _that_ coming. Draco stared at the direction that she had stormed off in for nearly a minute. "Women are crazy!" he shouted to no one in particular.

"Why do you think I took vows, sonny?" A nearby painting of a monk answered him knowingly.

"Oh, shut up." Draco retorted, as he folded his arms and continued to glare at the empty hallway.

"_Because for some stupid reason, I really care about you, you stubborn arse!"_ Draco couldn't remember the last time a phrase had echoed through his head so many times and with such force. He just couldn't seem to get it out of his head. Throughout the day, it kept jumping out at him at unexpected times. During his Astronomy class, just as he was dosing off, a vision of Hermione's big, brown eyes flashed in front of him, accompanied by, _"Because for some stupid reason, I really care about you, you stubborn arse!"_ From there, it was all downhill. After Astronomy came Transfiguration, which was even worse because Hermione happened to be in that class with him. She had elected to sit at the front of the classroom and refused to even glance at him, pointedly keeping her bushy head fixed straight ahead at all times. He stared at the back of her head until he thought he might set her hair on fire, and all he could hear over and over again was_, "Because for some stupid reason, I really care about you…I really care about you…I really care about you…" _

_Merlin's bloody blue balls. _What the hell was he supposed to do with that? _That_ was why she was force feeding her little Gryffindor crowd to him? _That_ was why she interfered at the Slytherin table this morning? He barely understood it—he was so used to dealing ulterior motives that he had no idea how to deal with someone who was motivated solely by her…caring…for him.

How she managed to completely disarm him when she made herself so vulnerable was beyond him. In his consternation over her heartfelt—albeit aggravated—confession, he forgot that he was angry about this morning's turn of events. All he could think of was,_ "Because for some stupid reason, I really care about you, you stubborn arse!"_

Why would she tell him that? She had literally handed him a weapon that he could crush her with. If he so chose, he could use her feelings to manipulate her in so many different ways…the possibilities were endless.

Why did she do it?

Transfiguration class finally came to an end, but Draco still had no answers, so he decided to face Hermione once more. He cut out of the classroom quickly, but waited by the door so he could catch her as she came out. Student after student piled out of the classroom, but no Hermione. Where was she? He was about to go in after her and drag her out if need be, but just then she lumbered out of the door, weighed down by her usual pile of about a bazillion books. He took a large number of them off of the top of the stack she was carrying, so that he could see her face.

"Hey, thanks…oh, it's you," her eyes narrowed when she saw him.

"Granger," he began.

She grimaced slightly and began to head to her next class—Charms, which they also had together. "I thought you were through with talking," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed down an empty corridor. Draco followed her.

"Yeah, well, you kinda dropped a bomb on me there, you have to admit," he said as he caught up to her.

She stopped and looked at him incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, when you said that you really…you know!" he finished with an exasperated tone. Was she going to make him _say_ it?

She faced him with a hand on her hip. "Are you trying to say that telling you that I really care about you is _dropping the bomb_ on you?"

"Hell yeah, Granger! Geez, I thought you were smart," he cracked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Draco," she took a deep breath. "I do really care about you, and that shouldn't have been a surprise. That's why were dating, isn't it?" She hesitated, then looked at him closely. "Isn't it?" she repeated.

_Where was she going with this?_ "Er," he stalled. For the first time, he was at a loss for words.

Hermione took a step closer to him and gave him an intense stare. "How _do_ you feel about me, anyway?"

_Uh oh._ He had to look away from her; this conversation was making him extremely uncomfortable. It was completely unfamiliar territory. "You know how I feel about you," he muttered.

"No, I don't, really. You never say anything about it."

He shrugged. "Well, that's because I'm a man of action," he said as he tilted his head and glanced back at her with a smirk, looking through the white-blonde hair that fell across his eyes. He knew that particular look always turned her on and he was attempting to deliberately distract her from this conversation topic. It was getting too dangerous.

She stared at him for about a minute, her expression unreadable. She let out a slow sigh. "That's all you have to say?"

_Wow. The look didn't work. That's a first. _"Granger, is this really necessary?"

"Yes, I think it is," she persisted.

Draco could feel his temper rising in response to the fact that this conversation was making him extremely flustered. "Okay, fine." he said crossly, dropping her books to the floor. "You want to know how I feel?" he grabbed her and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. It had thrown Hermione so off balance that she initially froze in his arms, which made him clutch her even more tightly in order to goad a reaction out of her. Just as he began to slide his tongue across hers, she pushed him away forcefully.

"Stop it!" she shouted angrily. Tears were springing to her eyes. "This isn't the answer to everything, you know!"

Draco could see that he had once again pushed her too far, but before he could stop it, he heard himself saying, "Well, it's a good start." _Oops._ _This is not the time to be cute, Draco,_ he warned himself.

"I'm not just somebody that you can snog whenever you want!" She was really getting worked up; a tear had started to slide down her cheek. This wasn't going at all how he had intended.

He sighed. "I never said that," he began carefully.

"Well, that's the problem! You never _say_ anything!" Hermione was overwrought. "All I did was try to get closer to you, and you think I'm trying to make you a Gryffindor. Then when I try to explain myself, you won't listen. Now I ask you a simple question: how do you feel about me, and you can't answer! Just what am I supposed to do, Draco?" The tears were flowing freely now as she shouted at him.

Draco looked at the floor with his hands in his pockets. He knew he had to say something, and it had better be the right thing or he could possibly cause some irreparable damage. He also knew what she wanted him to say…but he just didn't know if he had it in him. He felt so scarred sometimes that he often wondered if he was damaged beyond repair. Maybe Hermione could finally see that and she was having second thoughts…

After a few seconds of painful silence, he looked up at her with heavy eyes that bespoke all that he was thinking. Hermione seemed to read it in his gaze because her tears stopped flowing.

With as much feeling as he could muster, he said one word, slowly, gently:_ "Hermione."_

It was the tenderest thing he could manage to say to her. He had no silly pet names for her, and rarely called her by anything but Granger, Head Girl, or embellishments of (such as Her Royal Head Girlness, Most Exalted Head Girl, Granger the Great, etc.). Whenever he called her by her first name, it was a special thing between them.

He could see her expression softening; in order to avoid her eyes, he bent over and started picking up her books.

Draco handed her books to her and made to leave—he had had enough of this conversation and wanted to get the hell out of there before he messed it up any more—but she stopped him. "Draco," she began in a sympathetic tone.

But at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to escape. "I gotta go," he interrupted, and took off down the corridor.


	8. Reflections

Chapter 8—Reflections

About an hour later, Draco found himself aimlessly wandering about the school grounds. He had ended up skiving off both Charms and supper because he really wasn't in the mood to deal with the Slytherins, Ginny Weasley (that one really had to learn to mind her own damn business), or especially Hermione. Hermione was getting _way_ too pushy with him, and he needed a break from all of the drama.

He had finally settled down under a large tree at the edge of the lake and watched as an occasional tentacle from the giant squid would emerge and poke around for food. Once, he managed to hit a small tentacle with a rock that he had tossed and the resounding squeal that he caused made him smirk in response. It made him feel a bit more like himself.

After a while of sitting in silence, he sprawled forward onto his stomach and looked down at his reflection in the water. His white-blonde hair fell forward around his face; it was getting relatively long—just brushing his collar—being as he hadn't cut it since the Final Battle at Hogwarts. It made him resemble his father all the more, he realized. At that, he grimaced a bit. He didn't want to think about that either (that was even _more_ drama that he really didn't need to reflect on), so then he focused on his eyes. They were the same silvery-blue as his mother's, but they no longer resembled hers as much as they once did. The slightly hollow expression that was always present in them, thanks to the War, now reminded him more of Hermione's, even though he couldn't think of a pair of eyes that physically contrasted his more than hers. His were as light as could be whereas hers were huge, dark brown pools that he could stare at all day. _Damn._ Why did she have to push him so hard? He could be snogging her brains out right now instead of sitting out here communing with the giant squid.

He had talked to the Weaselette; fine, Hermione had had a point, it hadn't been quite so terrible (even though the little busybody _still_ had his Quidditch magazine). And he figured that he could accept the fact that both Hermione and Ginny were going to butt in from time to time where he was concerned. He didn't like it, but he had finally decided that he could live with it. But now Hermione wanted him to make a declaration that was akin to dropping his wand in a wizard's duel. He would be exposing his weaknesses and they could be exploited. Hell, when the Death Eaters had been around, he couldn't even give his mother a hug or _that_ would have been used against him.

Hermione knew how he felt about her—he _knew_ she did. Why did he have to say it? Once it was out, there would be no taking it back. He ran a hand though his hair in frustration. Why did he have to fancy a girl who was so bloody complicated? It would be so much easier just to find someone who was available for snogging but knew enough to keep her damned mouth shut the rest of the time.

_Hmmm…speak of the devil._ In the distance, he could see a girl approaching him that he recognized from his Astronomy class. What was her name? He hadn't bothered to remember; he just knew that she was a former Ravenclaw, and that she was always checking him out in class. _At least she had good taste._ That got a bit of a smirk out of him.

She had finally reached the area where he was all sprawled out. He looked up at her in silence. He still couldn't remember her name. _Didn't it start with an M? Maura, or something like that? Ah…who gives a damn, anyway. _

"Hello, Draco," she said with a flirtatious smile.

He nodded. "Oi," was all he could manage. He doubted that calling her what's-your-name to her face would go over very well.

She lowered herself to a seated position across from him. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

_I'm _always_ alone, girly. Get with the program._ He wasn't going to be outright rude to her just yet, though; after all, she was relatively attractive, he supposed. She had a good figure with wheat-colored hair that just brushed her shoulders. Then again, _he_ was also a blonde with medium-length hair; he might as well just go for himself. That amused him. He smirked as he glanced at his reflection in the water once more. _Yep. Not too shabby at all…_

He became so absorbed in his reflection that he nearly forgot that she was there, until he saw her reflection lean in behind his in the still water. "Would you like some company?" she asked as her shoulder bumped his.

He turned to look back at her, and her face was mere inches from his. This might be just what he needed to get his Hermione addiction under control. Then she wouldn't be able to yank his chain so much anymore. "Sure," he breathed, "why not," as the girl lowered her lips towards his.

The instant her lips touched his, Draco felt his skin begin to crawl. It was like kissing the giant squid. _What the hell was going on here? Since when have I _ever_ turned down a willing girl?_ He tried kissing her back with more enthusiasm as he slid a hand over her hip, but when she attempted to coil her tongue around his, that was the last straw. _Ugh. No way._ Finally, he pulled away with such force that the detachment of lips made a popping sound.

She had actually rolled back a bit on the grass. "What was _that_ all about?" she gasped angrily.

He stared back at her in silence for a moment. Her hazel eyes were narrowed as she brushed her blonde hair out of her face.

It was all wrong: her eyes were the wrong color, and there was no tangle of long, dark, crazy curls to bury his hands in. She just wasn't…_Hermione_.

But he still had to deal with the task at hand. "Thanks, but no thanks," he said to her and resumed staring at his reflection in the water. _That ought to give her the hint._

She stood up and glared at him. "You have got to be the rudest prat at Hogwarts!" she said with rancor, and whirled on her heel and stomped away.

_Hey, consider yourself lucky, girly. I could have been _much_ ruder than that. You just happened to catch me on an off day._

Following the Ravenclaw girl's departure, Draco sat up and sighed. _Stupid arse,_ he chastised himself. _What the hell am I doing?_ With a grunt of annoyance, he hauled himself up and began to make his way back towards the castle.


	9. Apologies

Chapter 9—Apologies

_Well as far as days go, this one royally sucked big time,_ Draco thought as he stared out of the floor-length window in the Astronomy tower. He had spent many a sleepless night there; perhaps it was because it was the last place that he had been before his life had changed forever. Just before Snape had killed Dumbledore. Before life with the Death Eaters began. Before all of the carnage, before being scrutinized by Voldemort and his Aunt Bellatrix at every turn. Before the entire blasted War happened that had kept him up at night one too many times. He was stretched out on the floor, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees with his shirt balled up into a pillow behind him, his shoes and socks carelessly tossed into a corner. His jumper sleeves were draped over his shoulders and dangling over his bare chest as a substitute for a dressing robe. He was prepared for sleep, but doubted that it would come as his mind was far too full. He also hadn't had a large enough dosage of Hermione for the day, which was always his prescription for a good night's sleep.

_Hermione_. He supposed that he would have to talk to her again at some point, but he had no idea what to say. At this point, he didn't think he had it in him to say anything that she wanted to hear, and that bothered him a great deal more than he wanted to admit. _Damned stubborn Gryffindor_, he thought angrily. _Why did it have to be so difficult?_

Just then, a voice came from behind him. "I thought I might find you here." He looked over his shoulder in surprise. _Hermione_. Even though it was late, she was still wearing her full school uniform and robe, complete with Head Girl badge. She must have been busy all night…looking for him, perhaps?

She approached Draco and sat down on the floor across from him. He stared at her warily but held his tongue, watching as she slid her school robe off of her shoulders and started digging in the pockets. "I didn't see you at supper," she said as she continued to search her pockets. "I thought you might be hungry." She laid an apple on the floor in front of him followed by a stack of toast and a small slab of cheese.

He immediately reached for a piece of toast. "Thanks," he muttered and took a large bite.

He kept his focus on the toast, his eyes downcast. He was a bit awed that she had thought to bring him something to eat, even after their disagreement earlier, and the rush of emotion that ensued embarrassed him. If he wasn't so hungry, he might have had to leave once again. Instead, he reached for another piece of toast. "Draco," Hermione had laid her hand on top of his as he had clamped on to the toast. "Look at me," she said gently.

"Don't do this, Granger," he said tersely, refusing to look up. He felt as if she was literally squeezing his heart between her hands. He didn't know if he could take much more of this.

"No, Draco, I just want to apologize," she said as she stroked his hand in a soothing manner. Apologize? He glanced up at her in surprise, and she was looking right back at him with an earnest expression on her face. "For what?" he managed.

She clasped his hand. "I pushed you too hard, and I'm sorry. You were so good with Ginny that I thought that it would be smooth sailing after that, but I didn't take your feelings into consideration. It was too much too fast."

_Oh, thank Merlin._ He nodded and looked down at their intertwined hands for a moment. The girl was bloody amazing. He took a deep breath and looked up at her. "Well, then…come here, you…_caring_ little thing, you," he said with a shadow of his old naughtiness.

She had a tiny smile playing at the corners of her lips. "What do you mean, come here? I'm right in front of you," she answered playfully.

"Not close enough," he said, leaning forward. Just then, the jumper slid off of his shoulders and he was sitting in front of her completely bare-chested.

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at his chest. He grinned mischievously; he knew he was in damned good shape and he could tell that she liked what she saw. She was also flustered as hell. "Whatsamatter, Granger? Something wrong?" he teased.

"You…you're not wearing a…" she sputtered.

"Nope. Too confining," he said as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed her with all of the pent-up emotion that had been building up in him since that morning. Hermione had initially stiffened when she felt his bare arms snake around her, but then gave herself over to his kiss with equal enthusiasm.

_Oh yeah…much, much better,_ he thought as one of his hands crept up to her nape and twined in her hair. He felt her hands come up and wrap under his shoulders, and her hands felt so good on his bare skin that he could barely stand it. He kissed her even more deeply, and hauled himself into a position where he had Hermione half-lying on the floor underneath him, his other hand sliding over her knee and moving up towards the hem on her skirt.

"Draco," she sighed. He began to nibble her ear as his hand inched just underneath the hem. "Draco!" she said again, this time the word was full of alarm.

"Whaaat?" he murmured, still in the throes of passion as his hand slid up an inch or two underneath her skirt.

Hermione grabbed the itinerant hand and slid it back down to below her skirt's hem. _"No,"_ she said reprovingly.

Hit bit down gently on her ear and she gasped. _"Yes,"_ he breathed into her ear as his hand crept back up.

She pushed it back down. _"No,"_ she said again, louder this time.

This was getting amusing. _"Yes,"_ he said as he ran a tongue along her neck, sliding his hand up further than ever. This time, he made it to mid-thigh.

She shivered and quickly slid out from underneath him. He, in turn, rolled onto his back and propped himself up by his forearms, leering at her like the cat that ate the canary.

"Draco! You can't do that with no shirt…and…and…you just can't do that!" Hermione sputtered lamely. She was panting and her eyes were huge. He knew that she had liked it, but didn't want to admit it. Besides, she was still staring at his chest, but probably wasn't even aware of it. He grinned saucily.

"Too much too fast, Head Girl?" he taunted her, shaking his hair out of his eyes with an evil chuckle.

She pursed her lips at him in a fine imitation of Professor McGonagall. "All right, you've made your point. I _said_ I was sorry," she looked away from him, still very flustered.

He didn't want to upset her again when he finally had her back. He sighed. "I'm sorry too. Okay, I said it. Now come here," he grumbled.

She was still looking away from him, but she had raised her chin and had a mock pout on her face. "I don't know…" she balked.

"I said, _come here,_ Granger."

"I don't think so."

"Granger," he leaned forward predatorily. "Don't make me have to come over there and get you," he threatened.

"Or you'll what?" she challenged. "I'm Head Girl; I can report you for being out past curfew!"

"Whoa, yeah, that's a scary thought," he said in mock horror. "Then I might get…_detention_," he added with a theatrical gasp.

She giggled and threw his shirt at him. "Here, you git. Put this on. _Then_ I'll come over there."


	10. Double Trouble

Chapter 10—Double Trouble

The next day, everything was back to normal. Well, almost normal. Hermione met up with Draco in the morning and together, they walked to Potions. He supposed that it wasn't too bad—he was beginning to enjoy the reactions that his being seen with Hermione elicited from the rest of the student body, and a smaller voice inside him added, _And it feels nice_. Their classmates were still in utter disbelief. In order to add fuel to the fire, Draco ended up throwing his arm over Hermione's shoulders as they passed Parvati Patil and her twin sister Padma in the hallway. Parvati was engrossed in a conversation with some other girl, but both she and her sister still managed to stop mid-blather and stare at the two of them. The other girl, noticing the Patils' expressions, turned around, puzzled. It was the Ravenclaw girl whom he had snubbed last night. _Bugger._ Draco stiffened as she noticed him and narrowed her eyes. She then immediately turned to Parvati and Padma and started whispering furiously. _Double bugger._ He started to walk faster, hauling Hermione along with him.

"Draco! What's the rush? We're not running late," Hermione gasped as she stumbled to keep up with him.

"Too many people in this hallway," he grumbled. Let her attribute it to his anti-social behavior. _Anything_ to get her away from Gossip Central.

"Okay, okay," she said in a placating manner. He cut into an alcove and led them down an empty corridor.

"Is this a short cut?" Hermione asked, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Draco decided to take advantage of the situation. He hadn't planned it, but it had worked out quite nicely. "No," he said, smirking devilishly and closing the distance on her.

Hermione was trying not to smile in response. "Oh no you don't; we're going to be late," she said as she made a feeble attempt to escape.

"No excuse this time, Granger. I've got my shirt on." He moved in even closer.

"We can't," she said unconvincingly, backing up towards the wall.

He pressed her up against the wall. "What, you'd prefer me to take it off?" he taunted.

"I don't want to anger Professor Slughorn by being tardy to his class," she clarified, even as her hand came up to stroke the white-blonde hair that had brushed across his collar.

He closed his eyes briefly as she gently tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Come on…just one little kiss," he coaxed her.

She gave him a tart little smile. "Draco, with you, it's _never_ just one little kiss."

He smirked and brought his hands up to tangle them in her hair. "Is that so bad?"

She leaned into his caress and gazed up at him, her eyes drinking in the details of his face. "You're so handsome," she said with a sigh.

He could feel his heart melting…how did she always manage to do that to him? He covered it by saying, "Okay Granger, after that, now you _have_ to kiss me," and he leaned in to give her a slow, tender kiss.

Just as his lips melded with hers, a voice interrupted them. "Oops! Sorry, we thought this corridor was empty." Incensed, he looked up in the direction that the voice had come from. It was Parvati Patil. She was standing at the end of the corridor with her hands on her hips, looking rather smug. Her sister Padma was behind her, arms folded with an identically smug expression on her face.

Draco could think of at least 10 different hexes that he would love to rain down on the two of them, but he didn't want to raise Hermione's suspicion. Instead, he'd let them have it verbally. "Get lost, Tweedledum and Tweedledee," he growled at them.

Hermione, meanwhile, embarrassed at being caught in a compromising position, sprang away from him. _Damn it_. "Parvati! Padma!" she exclaimed in an over-bright tone, "How are you?"

"Not as well as _you_, it seems," Parvati said suggestively. Behind her, Padma giggled.

Hermione's face was turning several different shades of red. "Yes, well," she attempted to straighten her hair and gathered up her bookbag. "It was nice to see you." She turned to Draco. "I have to get going; I don't want to be late for Potions." He nodded sullenly and watched her as she hurried off down the hall, avoiding Parvati and Padma's stares as much as possible.

Once she was gone, he turned on the twins in anger. "Bitches!" he spat. "That was deliberate!" He reached for his wand.

But Padma beat him to the draw. _"Expelliarmus!"_ she cried, and his wand flew out of his hand. Parvati hadn't moved; it seemed that she innately knew that Padma would cover her. She slowly sauntered up to him, hands still on her hips as she said in a self-satisfied manner, "Yes, Malfoy, it _was_ deliberate." Meanwhile, Padma had picked up his wand. Parvati poked him in the chest with her finger. "I'm just looking out for Hermione. Everyone knows that you're the biggest git in school, but Hermione's too trusting for her own good."

He glared at her furiously. If he had his wand at that moment, he would have blasted her to smithereens. "Mind your own damn business, Patil. You don't know the situation," he snarled.

"Oh, I think I do, Malfoy. Better than you know. Don't I, Padma?" she said, looking back at her twin. Padma nodded and looked up at Draco, tilting her head so that it touched Parvati's. Four identical Patil eyes stared haughtily at him. "We know quite a bit, Mr. Slytherin," Padma added in a sing-song voice.

"It seems that I just heard a _very interesting story_ from my friend Morag," Parvati continued. _Morag. That was the bloody girl's name. _Good. At least he now knew the name of the girl he wanted to hex into another dimension for tattling to the Patils. "She says that you snogged her just last night, out by the lake. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

They didn't know who they were dealing with. Draco Malfoy had the best poker face he knew (except for his father), and he had dealt with some of the most accomplished _Legilimens_ in the wizarding world such as his Aunt Bellatrix and Severus Snape. There was no way they would ever be able to get him to blab what had happened between him and what's-her-name. _Morag_, he corrected himself.

He folded his arms and gave them a condescending look. "And I suppose you two believe everything you hear. Do you know how many girls in this school claim to have snogged me, Patil? If all the stories were true, I wouldn't have time to eat or sleep." He had drawled this so convincingly that he saw uncertainty flicker in both girls' eyes.

Padma persisted. "Morag's in my dorm room and she wouldn't lie about something like this. Not that it's anything to brag about," she added with spite.

He figured the best course of action would be to put them on the defensive. He might as well use all of his weapons at hand, and he knew his appearance was a formidable one as far as girls were concerned. He bumped Padma with his hip and eyed her suggestively through the strands of white-blond hair that had fallen across his brow. "Methinks you protest too much, Patil. Why? Curious?" he said in a husky voice.

Padma blushed furiously. "You wish," she mumbled, and immediately looked down at the floor. _Bingo. Easier than I thought._

Parvati saw that her advantage was slipping. She looked back and forth between Draco and her sister, annoyed that Padma was still staring self-consciously at the floor. She snatched Draco's wand out of Padma's hand and ungraciously handed it back to him. "All right, Malfoy. You win for now, but I don't believe you and when I find out the truth once and for all, I'm going to tell everybody, _especially_ Hermione Granger."

He flexed his wand and looked back at her, seemingly unruffled. "You do that, Tweedledum. Now why don't you and Tweedledee here run along to your next class," he said coolly.

Parvati gave him one last glare and grabbed her sister's arm and dragged her off down the corridor. Padma had looked back over her shoulder at him, but Parvati quickly gave her hair a tug, forcing her eyes back in front of her.

Draco waited until the coast was clear and let out a breath. _Merlin's bloody blue balls. This could get ugly._ He would most likely have some troubleshooting to do before the day ended. But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, so with a grimace he headed off to Potions.


	11. Guilt, Maybe

Chapter 11—Guilt…Maybe

Draco found several short cuts on his way to Potions, and ended up making it there just as Slughorn was entering the dungeon. Never one to pass up a grand entrance, Draco slid his hands into his pockets and sauntered down the aisle with a careless smirk on his face, and much to Professor Slughorn's chagrin, dropped into the seat next to Hermione in the front row. Slughorn had frozen in place and was staring at Draco with such tightly pursed lips that it looked as if he had just gotten through with eating an entire cauldron full of lemons. He obviously still didn't trust Draco sitting in the front row, or especially, next to Hermione.

Hermione, oblivious to Slughorn's discomfort, looked up at Draco and gave him a sweet little smile before going into her bookbag to search for more materials. Draco leaned back in his seat and watched her rummage through her things. She really was something else. No matter what was going on between them, she always had something for him. Be it a kind word, a hug, making sure he got something to eat when she saw that he had missed a meal, a smile…she was always giving to him, and she never expected anything in return. She just…_cared_ for him. As he pondered this, he felt an unfamiliar sensation; a peculiar sinking feeling in his stomach.

Next to him, Hermione began her typical note-taking marathon while Draco sat in silence, lost in thought. What _was_ this odd feeling he was sensing? Could it be…_guilt?_ _Nah, it couldn't be that. Malfoys don't experience guilt._ In fact, he doubted that his father ever experienced any emotions other than disdain, superiority, and fleeting moments of superficial pleasure. _No…definitely not guilt._

Out of the corner of his eye Draco continued to study Hermione's profile, which was, naturally, bent over her parchment as she dutifully copied Slughorn's notes. Thank Merlin the Patils weren't in this class because he _really_ didn't want them bothering Hermione. She had her hands full enough just dealing with him; she didn't need any more aggravation. That thought brought a bit of a smirk to his face, but it quickly faded as a female voice began to echo in the back of his head, _"When I find out the truth once and for all, I'm going to tell everybody, _especially_ Hermione Granger."_

_Damn Parvati Patil, the harpy._ If she ended up blabbing to Hermione…he racked his brain for any ammunition that he might have acquired on the Gryffindor Gossip that he could use against her in order to keep her gargantuan mouth shut. _Hmmm…there was that night when I was sleeping in the tower and I caught her and that idiot Macmillan trying to sneak up for some evening rendezvous. Yeah…that might do it._ Gryffindors and their pride—he knew all about that. He smirked again and glanced once more at Hermione-the-scribe.

Gryffindors and their pride. Hermione's pride would suffer a great blow if she ever heard about the girly-by-the-lake incident. _Morag_, he corrected himself. _Bloody blabbermouth Morag. _Unwillingly, an image flashed in his head of Hermione surrounded by Morag and the Patil sisters, Hermione's face reflecting a combination of shock, betrayal and deep hurt. The sinking feeling in his stomach lurched with newfound intensity.

_Bugger_. It _was_ guilt that he was feeling! What the hell was happening to him? Lately, he had been acting very un-Malfoylike. If he didn't watch it, he was going to turn into a harp-playing, tiptoe-through-the-tulips, lilac robe-wearing Nancy-boy. He tried to sneer at himself in disgust, but the sinking stomach feeling was just too overpowering.

_Bugger, bugger, bugger. I feel guilty. This is _highly_ inconvenient._ He glanced over again at Hermione, the catalyst for all of the turbulent thoughts that had been coursing through his head. She must have felt his eyes on her because at precisely that moment, she peeked up at him over her quill and gave him another sweet little smile.

_Aw, man…_ That was it; he felt the way he felt, so he might as well deal with it. He was a Malfoy who felt guilty about the way he had treated his…_muggleborn_…_girlfriend_. If his father could have been privy to his thoughts, Lucius Malfoy would have had an apoplectic fit, _especially_ over those last two words. If it hadn't been so crazy, it would have been almost humorous.

_Well, isn't this a fine sack of troll dung._ Draco looked up at the blackboard where Slughorn was standing. Maybe if he actually paid attention in class, it would help keep his mind off of things.

"Now, don't forget, you must stir the potion 36 times counter-clockwise, then 4 times clockwise until the potion becomes a slightly lighter shade of puce," Slughorn was saying.

_That's it,_ Draco thought. _I'm officially in hell._

After class, as he and Hermione walked to the Great Hall for lunch, Hermione took his hand. Once again, he found himself staring down at their linked hands. "Draco," she ventured, "is everything all right? You seem a little distracted."

Draco grunted noncommittally. His mind was still too full to say anything.

"Is there anything I can do?" Hermione asked.

_Yeah. If a Patil or Morag comes anywhere near you, you can hit them with a Silencing Charm._ He shrugged indifferently. "Don't worry about it."

She stopped in front of him and looked at him closely, her dark brown eyes wide with concern. "Are you sure?" she pressed.

_Damn it. Those eyes should be declared a lethal weapon._ All he could think of to do was distract her, at least until he could decide how he was going to handle the situation. Luckily, they were in a deserted hallway—one of his many isolated routes. He let go of her hand and began to slowly slide it up her arm until it reached the nape of her neck. "Well, Granger, I can think of something that would make me feel a _lot_ better," he said huskily as he attempted to pull her in closer for a snog.

Hermione was blushing prettily. "I'm sure it would," she said tartly. He had closed the miniscule distance between them and began to slide his other hand around her waist. She brought her hands up to his chest in a feeble attempt to hold him back. "Can…can I just ask you something before you make me forget?" she blurted.

_Huh? Bloody hell…does she know?_ He felt himself stiffen, but then he forced himself to relax so as not to arouse more suspicion. "What?" he asked warily.

"This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, and I'm supposed to meet Harry and Ron because…well, I haven't seen them in almost a month. Anyway, I was wondering…that is to say, I was _hoping_ that…well…" she was babbling nervously.

She didn't know…she just wanted him to meet Scarhead and the Weasley King! He was so relieved that he heard himself saying, "Yeah, whatever. That's fine."

Hermione's face lit up. She was positively glowing. "Really? You mean it?" She was so excited that she was clutching the front of his jumper tightly in each of her hands. He used the opportunity to slide both of his hands around her waist and rest them on her hips, in close proximity to one of his favorite parts of Hermione, the perky Granger bum.

He really didn't want to talk or think anymore. He simply nodded in response and dipped his head forward to rest it on her forehead and closed his eyes. He felt Hermione twine her arms around his neck.

"Draco, thank you so much. You're wonderful," she whispered.

At that, Draco's stomach lurched so violently that he nearly gagged. He kept his eyes closed and let out a deep breath. _No more thinking,_ he decided, and lowered his lips to hers in an effort to block out the…_guilt_.


	12. Blackmail, Anyone?

Chapter 12—Blackmail, Anyone?

Lunch started out quite awkwardly—Draco still felt too uncomfortable to speak freely with Hermione, so their conversation consisted mainly of Hermione discussing homework strategies with an occasional grunt or snort from Draco. Luckily, he was granted a reprieve when Michael Corner—_pompous prat_, Draco thought uncharitably—extricated Hermione for some sort of official Head Boy/Girl business. Hermione couldn't have been gone for two minutes when the Patil twins descended upon him in force like vultures going for the kill.

Parvati planted her hands on the table and leaned forward into his personal space in such an obnoxious fashion that Draco could feel himself unconsciously reaching for his wand. He managed to stop himself at the last minute and kept a calm, bored, slightly disdainful expression on his face. Deciding to play it as cool as possible, he leaned back in his seat with a careless posture, slowly looked up at her in his best aristocratically ennui-laden manner and drawled, "What now, peon?"

"Peon!" Parvati exclaimed, indignant. _Good,_ Draco thought. _Figured that'd throw her off._ Behind her, he could have sworn he'd heard Padma snicker. _Hmmm…a fault line in the unholy alliance, perhaps? That could be useful…_

He folded his hands behind his head and smirked cockily at the twins. _Malfoy Rule of Conduct #1: Attack before being attacked._ "Sooo…" he continued in his best mocking fashion, "I suppose you're here to tell me that one of your little friends saw me snogging McGonagall behind the Quidditch pitch, perhaps?"

Parvati looked positively murderous. She glared at him with clenched fists and was sputtering. Padma broke in with, "Malfoy, I just talked to Morag, and—"

_Ah, the easier target._ He gave Padma his best predatory grin and interrupted her with, "Oh, hello, Honey." He added a wink just for good measure.

Padma stopped mid-sentence and turned bright red. Parvati gave her a shove. "_We_ just talked to Morag, Malfoy, and she doesn't appreciate you calling her a liar!"

Keeping his features carefully schooled in a disinterested expression, he began to carelessly pick at his Shepherd's pie. "Yeah, I'm really concerned about that." He punctuated the sarcastic remark with a huge bite.

"I am _not_ going to let you make a fool out of Hermione!"

Parvati really had to keep her voice down, or other students were likely to start eavesdropping. Best to shut her up as quickly as possible. Draco tossed down his fork in agitation. "Look Patil," he said, glaring up at her. "I'm sick and tired of being pestered by you and your little clone here, no matter _how_ cute she is." He added that last bit in order to keep Padma off-balance and therefore less of a threat, accentuating it with another leer in her direction. Padma's face flared up once again with increased intensity. _That'll at least keep_ her _mouth shut. _"Anyway," he continued. "If you're so hell-bent on blabbing about me, then perhaps I'm going to have to do some blabbing of my own."

Parvati faltered; her expression unsure. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and a certain Hufflepuff chap by the name of Macmillan? Been breaking more than a few rules with him lately, I hear." Draco had a gut feeling that even more had happened between her and Macmillan than he had initially suspected and gambled that a bluff might pay off in a huge way.

Parvati gasped. _Bingo_. "How did you know about that?" she demanded. Padma was looking at Parvati with a quizzical expression. _Interesting…the twinny doesn't even know._

"I have my ways." It was none of her damn business how he knew. "Now if I were you, I'd run along because you should know by now that I don't play fair. Best to get out while you still can." He picked up one of his nearby books and pretended to be engrossed in it, pointedly ignoring both Patils in a manner of dismissal. Padma had leaned into Pavati and was mumbling something along the lines of "What is he talking about?" Parvati grabbed her arm and dragged her away. He could hear Parvati hissing back, "Nothing. I said, _nothing_," under her breath as they departed.

When they were out of sight, Draco leaned forward, put his head in his hands and let out a shaky breath. The confrontation had rattled him more than he cared to admit. How much longer he was going to be able to keep this up, he didn't know. At least he was pretty sure that Parvati would keep her mouth shut until he could decide exactly what he was going to do.

But what _was_ he going to do? The one thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want to hurt Hermione any more. Was there any way to fix this without causing her any pain? And without lying to her? He had never lied to Hermione and he had no intention of starting now. She was the one person in his life who he trusted, mainly due to the fact that he had never lied to her and she had never lied to him, and he would be damned if he was going to lose that now.

As he mulled it over, he amused himself by messing with the Slytherins. He was still sitting at their table (mainly to annoy them), but they had isolated him to an even greater extent by all grouping together at the opposite end of the table, squeezed together like a bunch of sardines. Obviously, this was in order to create as much distance between themselves and him as possible. They pointedly ignored Draco, which made it even easier for him to mess with Nott and Harper in particular by silently casting Spoiling Spells on their food from behind the book that he had propped up in front of him. He almost snorted out loud when Harper spit out a large bite of food in disgust and it hit Zabini, who was sitting across from him, right between the eyes. As they all began shouting at each other, Draco kept his head down and fought to keep a straight face. But then he was interrupted by, "Oh, Mr. Malfoy…"

Annoyed, he looked up angrily. _What now?_ Then, _Oh._ It was Professor Flitwick, who was standing in front of him with a polite smile on his face.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I couldn't help but overhear Professor McGonagall up at the head table. She could have sworn that she detected a hex or two coming from this table. You wouldn't have happened to have seen anyone who looked suspicious now, _did you?"_ Flitwick looked at him pointedly as if to say, _I_ _know it was you—now quit it, before I have to turn you in._

Malfoy decided to heed Flitwick's warning. Besides, he could get the Slytherins better when no one was around—more opportunities. "I did, Professor, but _he's gone now_," Draco returned with a sly expression.

Flitwick's lip twitched briefly. He rejoined in the same sly tone, "Good. I certainly hope so, because _his luck would have run out."_ And with that, the tiny Professor headed back to the head table.

As he watched Flitwick's retreating back, he heard a voice from behind him. "Sorry that took so long, but I'm back now." Hermione dropped into the seat next to him with a smile and squeezed his hand.

_Yes, you're back now,_ he thought, as his stomach began to churn. _And so is my dilemma. Blast._


	13. Replacements

Chapter 13—Replacements

The rest of the day consisted mainly of Draco coming up with plan after plan after plan of how to deal with the girly-by-the-lake dilemma, but nothing he thought of seemed right. Mainly because all of them consisted of him having to lie to Hermione at some point, which he was completely opposed to doing. After several hours of hatching and rejecting prospective plots, his mind was exhausted. Finally, towards the end of Divination, a thought occurred to him that didn't seem wholly objectionable: writing Hermione a letter, explaining to her his version of what had happened and why. He wasn't too keen on having tangible, written evidence that could be used against him in the future, but it was the only thing that he could come up with that didn't make him want to vomit profusely.

_A blasted, bloody letter._ A letter he really wasn't looking forward to writing, but he supposed it was worth a try. Besides, he didn't have to send it to her if he didn't like the way that it turned out. He sighed in resignation as he headed down to the Quidditch pitch with broom in hand, his green and black uniformed robes billowing out from behind him as he glided along.

_Thank Merlin,_ he thought. _Something to get my mind off of this mess._ This would be his first Quidditch practice back with the team after his month's worth of detentions with Slughorn the Walrus. He reached the Slytherin—correction, Team Venom—locker room and began to hunt around for padding, when he was interrupted from behind with, "Wha…what are you doing here?"

He looked around to see Zabini standing behind him, looking nervous as all get out. _What the hell? I think Zabini may finally be losing it,_ Draco mused.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Looking for padding," he said dismissively, and turned back to his locker.

"But…you…you're not…" Zabini was stuttering. _Idiot,_ Draco thought. Finally, he found a set of shoulder pads and strapped them on. He picked up his broom and began to head towards the Quidditch pitch, ignoring Zabini who, inexplicably, was still stumbling along behind him, stuttering, "Surely you've heard…"

Draco had finally reached the entrance to the pitch and turned on Zabini in impatience. "Heard _what,_ Zabini? Spit it out!"

"Heard that you're no longer necessary, Malfoy." Malfoy turned towards the source of the new voice that had joined the exchange. Harper was standing there, broom planted firmly in one hand, the other hand on his hip in an aggressive stance. The other Slytherins were approaching from behind Harper with sneers, stares and glares.

Draco was taken aback, but didn't show it. "And why is _that?"_ he asked in an exasperated tone.

Harper gestured towards a 7th green-robed player that Draco hadn't initially noticed. _Nott. Bloody bastard._ "You've been replaced." Harper continued. "You're no longer the Seeker for Team Venom."

"Is that so?" Draco sneered. "Does this ape even know how to fly a broom properly?" He had managed to maintain an arrogant, disinterested air, but his insides were churning. _No more Quidditch? How dare they? What am I going to do without Quidditch?_

"That's no longer your concern, Malfoy. You haven't been representing our team properly for quite some time now, so you've been voted out. Unanimously." Snickers from the rest of the team accompanied Harper's statement.

"I have played Quidditch for Slytherin longer than anyone on this entire team!" Draco exploded, finally losing control.

"Yeah, well, you're not anymore. Now get off the field so we can practice." And with that, the entire Quidditch team turned their backs on Draco Malfoy.

"I can't believe they would do such a thing, simply out of spite! You're their most experienced player," Hermione said sympathetically as she stroked his arm. They were sitting side by side on a bench in a small courtyard outside of the castle. She had eventually found Draco furiously pacing about there—he had been so angered by his exile from the team that he never made it to the Great Hall for supper. Hermione had gone looking for him, once again with a stack of provisions so that Draco wouldn't go hungry.

He was angrily attacking a biscuit, stoically chewing away but secretly pleased that she had found him and managed to drag the story out of him. He was feeling a little better now that he had vented…and eaten.

As he took a swig of pumpkin juice out of a flask, he could see Hermione fidgeting irritably beside him, her face taut with righteous indignation. She looked so peeved that he could feel a smirk beginning at the corners of his mouth. "What?" he asked her, fighting to keep a straight face.

Hermione folded her arms. "Those narrow-minded prats! After all that happened with the War, and…and…" Her voice was rising as she became more and more agitated. "How could they _still_ be so…why do they…_Merlin's pants!"_ she burst out.

Draco almost snickered. Hermione was so incensed that she could barely speak—at this point, _she_ was angrier than _he_ was. It was adorable…and a bit unsettling. He was not used to someone being so emotionally involved in what happened to him. He swallowed the last of his biscuit and stood up. "It's getting chilly out here; we should go back inside."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I suppose so." She took his hand and together they walked back inside.

As they headed back towards the Great Hall, they encountered Ginny trudging towards them looking quite glum. She was deep in thought and didn't even notice them until she practically walked right into Hermione. Hermione grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Ginny! Are you all right?"

"_I'm_ fine. But my Seeker's not—that's the problem." Ginny shook her head.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"I just came from the infirmary. We've been trying to get some extra Quidditch practices in by working with our new Seeker privately in the back field—" _Ha. I _knew_ they snuck in unauthorized practices,_ Draco thought as he folded his arms and quirked an accusing eyebrow at her.

Ginny pursed her lips at him. "Oh, like you don't do it, too," she said reprovingly. "_Anyway_," she continued, turning back to Hermione, "Peakes has been trying to perfect the Bludger Backbeat—you know, where he hits the Bludger behind him instead of in front..?" Hermione, who was never much of a Quidditch fan, was looking a bit lost. Ginny made an impatient gesture. "Well, the Bludger ended up hitting our Seeker and knocking him off his broom. So now we've got a Seeker with a cracked skull and a pronounced fear of Bludgers."

Draco snorted.

"It's not funny, Malfoy! What am I going to do now?" Ginny glared at him.

Hermione, in an attempt to prevent an argument from ensuing, added, "Draco's not having a good day either. He just got voted off of his Quidditch team."

"Granger…" he warned her through clenched teeth. _If I hear one single_ Aw, that's too bad, _I'm gonna blast somebody. I don't need anyone's pity, dammit._

"Sorry," Hermione muttered.

Ginny sighed. "Guess it's a bad day for Quidditch all around, then."

Hermione's face suddenly brightened. "Hey…" she said to Ginny, "Why don't you have Draco play Seeker for _your_ team? He's the most experienced Seeker in school!"

"No. Oh no…no way," both Ginny and Draco said together.

"But why not?" Hermione persisted.

Ginny looked at her with a combination of affection and exasperation. "Hermione," she said, "you just don't understand Quidditch."

Hermione looked crestfallen. "But…it sounds like it could solve _both_ of your problems," she ventured timidly.

Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm no Gryffindor," he said flatly. _It'll be a cold day in hell before I play for the Gryffindorks._

"Neither are we. There's no Houses anymore," Ginny said absently.

Hermione took this as a sign of encouragement. "See what I mean?"

"No," Draco said flatly. _Stubborn, stubborn Gryffindor._ She had better not push the matter. It was enough that he was going to have to sit through a bloody tea party tomorrow with The Scarhead Who Lived and his Weasel sidekick at Hogsmeade…was that tomorrow? Yes, it was. _Bugger_.

Ginny had bit her lip and was staring at the floor, thinking rapidly. "I guess I could play Seeker and get another Chaser, but there's not much time…" she trailed off. Looking up at Hermione, she smiled briefly. "Don't mind me; I'll figure something out." She gave Hermione a quick hug. "Thanks anyway," Ginny said, then headed off in the general direction of the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione looked at Draco. "I still don't think it's such a terrible idea," she said mulishly.

Draco pulled her towards him and gave her one of his steamiest kisses. When he finally pulled back, Hermione looked thoroughly distracted. _Good…that's more like it._ "Drop it," he told her, but softened the harshness of his tone by running a hand through her hair.

Hermione sighed. "Okay, but I was only trying to help." She tilted her head forward and rested it on his chest.

"I know, Granger…I know."


	14. Round One

Chapter 14—Round One

The next day, Draco reluctantly trudged towards the courtyard where everyone was meeting in order to depart to Hogsmeade village. On the way, he passed the Patil twins in the corridor. Padma blushed and looked away, but Parvati shot him a glare that would have frozen firewhiskey. Reflexively, he gave her a cocky grin but thought, _Damn. I was so brassed off at the Quidditch fiasco last night that I forgot to write that letter to Hermione. When I get back from Hogsmeade I'll have to give that a shot,_ he resolved.

Finally, he reached the courtyard, and spied Hermione talking to Ginny. She must have sensed his eyes on her because she gave Ginny a hug and turned and headed quickly over to him. She perched up on tiptoe and gave him a welcoming kiss on the ear. _Mmmm…very nice._ "You sure you want to go to Hogsmeade? Maybe somewhere private would be more…_entertaining,"_ he asked in a husky tone.

Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. "None of that, now. We're going to meet Harry and Ginny at the Hog's Head. I can't wait!" she said, grinning with excitement.

_I sure as hell can._ "Yeah, yeah…okay," he said reluctantly. _Wait, did she say the Hog's Head? _A Malfoy wouldn't be caught dead in a dump like that. "Why aren't we going to The Three Broomsticks?" he demanded.

"The Hog's Head is more private. Plus, we kind of have an 'in' with the owner," Hermione added cryptically. Her brow creased with concern. "Is that a problem?" she asked.

At this point, what difference did it make? _Sure, fine, I'll hang out in a dingy hellhole with Saint Scarhead and the bloody Weaselette and share stories about how swell the world is now that Potter the Perfect has saved the day._ Draco already couldn't wait for the day to be over, and it had barely begun. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled as he grabbed her hand and headed in the direction of Hogsmeade.

They made it to the Hog's Head in record time. Draco wanted it done with as soon as possible, so he had hurried them to the tavern, barely speaking two words to Hermione during the course of the trip. He figured he ought to be able to stand about 15 minutes, tops, in the presence of that blasted Potter and the sooner Draco got there, the sooner he could leave.

Hermione looked at the clock in the village square. "They're not going to be here for about a half an hour," she said, slightly panting from the rapid pace that Draco had set. "Maybe…" she began, her tone a bit unsure, "maybe we could stop and see Ron at the Weasley Wheezes' new shop? He's helping George part-time with the new location."

_Fan-bloody-tastic._ Well, at least she was only asking that he meet them one at a time. He supposed it could be worse. Plus, they wouldn't have to stay that long because they would have to leave in order to meet Frick and Frack over at the Hog's Head. He shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, whatever."

In a few minutes, they found themselves in front of the newest location of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes—a rather garish looking building that was positively plastered in magenta and gold signs screaming the names of their many products such as 'U-NO-POO' and Exploding Hair Potion. Draco perked up a bit, but was careful not to show it. No one had ever known it, but the Weasleys' shop had been one of his favorite places to visit in Diagon Alley. During the summer months, he used to go there on a regular basis to stock up on 'necessaries'. He had developed a grudging respect for the Weasley twins: they had been highly inventive and successful troublemakers in their own right—not quite on his own sinister level, but skilled, nonetheless. He was actually sorry when he had heard that Fred Weasley had been killed at the Battle at Hogwarts. _So the Weasel King was working here now, eh? As what, a test subject?_ Draco mused, as he followed Hermione into the store.

Ron's ginger head was immediately visible as he busily filled a bin marked, 'Trick Wands'. He accidentally dropped one and it instantly turned into a garden gnome that marched up to him and kicked him in the knee. "Bloody hell!" Ron shouted, grabbing his knee. "That's the third time today." He angrily picked up the gnome, gave it a good shake and it promptly changed back into a wand. He grimaced at it and tossed the wand back into the bin with a grunt.

Hermione giggled. Ron immediately turned around and upon seeing her, grinned hugely. "Hey, Hermione," he managed to get out just before she rushed over to give him a hug. Ron hugged her back so enthusiastically that he lifted her off the ground. _Hey, numbskull, let go of my girlfriend,_ Draco silently seethed.

Eventually, Hermione pulled away from Ron (but not soon enough to suit Draco) and led him over to where Draco was standing. Ron," she said nervously, "you remember Draco?"

_Talk about the understatement of the year._ Ron nodded stiffly. "Malfoy," he managed.

Draco gave him the tiniest sneer, almost too small to be detected. Hermione didn't catch it, but Ron certainly did. His eyes narrowed as Draco gave him back the same stiff nod. "Weasley," Draco returned.

Hermione looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment; the tension was as thick as Polyjuice potion. She swallowed audibly. "Yes, well…why don't you show us around the shop, Ron? It looks great," she said in an attempt to distract them from their mutual dislike.

"Thanks Hermione—it's all due to me, of course." George Weasley swept into the room, a visual assault with his ginger hair and bright magenta robes. "Ickle Ronnie here's just the unskilled laborer," he added with a good-natured nudge to Ron, who scowled back at him. Draco smirked. Anyone who ribbed the Weasley-keep-your-ruddy-hands-off-my-girlfriend-King immediately went up a notch in his estimation.

The smirk must have caught George's eye. "Malfoy," he said turning to Draco. "Always good to see a steady customer, even if you _are_ a royal pain in the arse."

Hermione sucked in her breath. Ron simply looked shocked at the fact that George had even spoken to Draco.

Draco nodded back at him. "Weasley. Seems like you've got a _hole_ lot of good stuff in here." That drew an audible gasp from Hermione. She had told Draco about how George lost his ear in a Death Eater battle and now had a gaping hole on the side of his head. Apparently, she thought ribbing George about his ear was off limits, but nothing was off limits as far as Draco Malfoy was concerned.

There was a moment of silence as George stared at Draco. Hermione had her hands over her mouth. Ron gaped at them like a fish, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

George threw back his head and laughed. "Good one, Malfoy. Hey, you might appreciate some of the new stuff we've been working on…"

The next half hour was spent with George Weasley showing him every experimental product in the store. And of course, George managed to test a few of them on Draco, and even vice-versa. After George had managed to slap a wizard's hat on Draco that turned his entire head purple, Draco immediately whipped the hat off, jammed it on George's head and tapped it with his wand. George's head not only turned purple, but he grew a full, shaggy purple beard with green highlights. As George was trying to pry the spell out of Draco that he had used, Hermione interrupted them. "It's time to go to the Hog's Head," she said, as she stared in consternation at Draco's purple face and hair.

_Bugger. I am _not_ meeting Potter with a bloody purple head._ Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Weasley King snickering. Draco turned on George. "This had better not be permanent!"

"None of our stuff is permanent, Malfoy," George said in an offhand manner. He was already managing to shrink his beard to a purple and green goatee. "That'll fade in about another 20 minutes or so. You're already a little paler."

"Well…that's good news…" Hermione said, her tone unsure—she had never trusted the Weasleys' products very much. Taking Draco's arm, she waved goodbye to Ron and George. "We really have to get going."

"Hey Malfoy, say hi to Harry for me, will you?" Ron called out, a huge grin on his face.

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione spoke in a loud voice over him, "It was lovely seeing all of you—thanks, 'bye!" And she quickly pulled him out the door.


	15. Round Two

**Ah, another one of my favorite chapters! Pardon my intrusion, but I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you for sticking with me so far and also for such stellar reviews! The positive feedback for my writing really means a lot to me, especially as I come to the close of the Original Novel I've been working on.**

**Thanks again and enjoy!**

Chapter 15—Round Two

Outside of the Weasleys' shop, Draco turned on Hermione. "Isn't there anything you can do about this?" he demanded angrily, gesturing to his purple head.

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't think I should…I'm afraid I might make it worse. Besides, George is right—it _is_ fading, see?" She lifted a lock of his hair in front of him and she had a point; it was a starting to become more of a lighter shade of lavender.

"I don't believe this," Draco grumbled.

Hermione was still running a hand through his hair. "If it's any consolation, purple _is_ my favorite color," she said with a tart little smile.

"Is that so?" Draco leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss. When he pulled away, Hermione's eyes were a bit unfocused. _Let's try this one more time._ "I say we ditch the Hog's Head and find some nice, quiet spot where you can admire me in all my purpleness."

Hermione looked up at him with huge, pleading eyes. "Draco…_please?"_

_Damn, damn, damn. She _had_ to give me the big-eye. _He groaned. "All right, all right. But I am _not_ going in there until I'm back to my normal coloring. I'll wait in the back alley or something."

"Oh, Draco, I love you!" Hermione cried as she threw her arms around him.

Draco immediately stiffened and pulled back. He held her back from him with a firm grip on her upper arms and gave her an intense stare. "What did you say?" he enunciated carefully.

Hermione turned bright red and didn't answer immediately. She was staring at her feet. Then slowly, she looked up at him with emotion. Her eyes were teary as she smiled at him. "I said…_I love you,_" she repeated.

Draco's heart began to pound. _She_ _loves me? What do I do now?_ His insides were panicking. He continued to stare at her, but found himself unable to move.

Hermione brought her hands up to his face. "You don't have to say a thing. I just want you to know that I love you, Draco Malfoy." She leaned in and gave him a soft, sweet kiss.

It was nothing but a brief little peck, but for Draco, it was the best kiss of his entire life. He was overwhelmed by the fact that not only had Hermione told him that she loved him, she didn't ask for a thing in return. Although her declaration wasn't a good tactical move (again, it could be used against her), it was the bravest thing he had ever witnessed. Unable to speak, he caressed her cheek. "Hermione," he managed, not looking at her directly.

Hermione seemed to sense that it was a bit too much for him. She squeezed his hand and said, "I'm going to head over to the Hog's Head. Meet me there in 20 minutes?"

He still couldn't quite look at her or speak, so he nodded curtly. With another quick smile at him, she was gone.

Draco let out a huge breath. He slowly walked towards the back alley outside the Hog's Head, his mind reeling over what Hermione had told him. _She _loves _me. No matter what I say or do, the fact that I'm a Slytherin, that my father was a Death Eater, that I mess with her constantly, she still…_loves_ me._ His heart was doing flip-flops in his chest. He had known that she was very attracted to him, that she cared about him, but love? That was some _very_ serious business. He stopped in front of a window in an old, abandoned building where he could see his reflection. Staring back at him was a lavender-headed (Hermione was right; it _was_ fading) aristocratically handsome Malfoy who looked like he had just received the shock of his life. Which he had.

He sat down on an old nearby crate and put his head in his hands. _"You don't have to say a thing. I just want you to know that I love you, Draco Malfoy," _echoed in his thoughts. _Granger, Granger, Granger…you're trying to bloody kill me._ The events of the week came back to him in a rush: the meetings with the Weaselette, the confrontation with the Slytherins, the arguments he had with Hermione, the blasted girly-by-the-lake incident, and finally, his exile from the Slytherin Quidditch team. His life was in turmoil, all due to one stubborn, exasperating, incredibly sweet and caring little Gryffindor. He should be furious with her, but all he could think of was her glowing face as she had said, _"You don't have to say a thing. I just want you to know that I love you, Draco Malfoy."_

_I don't have to say a thing. Good, because I don't think I can._ He sighed and glanced up at his reflection once again in the window. Definitely a pastel lavender. But even with his coloring back to normal, how the hell was he supposed to face Potter after hearing what he had just heard? He was so unsettled that he didn't think he would be able to be all Gryffindorily nice and polite and all that crap.

But even so, Hermione loved him nonetheless. He had barely spoken two words to the Weasel King and Hermione had _still_ told Draco that she loved him. That was a bit encouraging. Continuing along that train of thought, he realized that this meeting with Potter might not be the utter torture that he had been anticipating. Hermione was in love with him—it seemed that the one who needed to make the effort in order to please Hermione at this point was Potter. He _had_ to be nice to Draco, because Draco knew that Potter's Gryffindorness wouldn't allow him to hurt Hermione's feelings by being a prat. _Hmmm…this could be mildly entertaining,_ Draco thought with a touch of his old sauciness.

Draco got up and paced about the back alley as he waited for the last vestiges of his purplized cranium to fade. It was tough to tell in the window's dusty reflection—he thought that he might still have a slight lavender tint, barely discernible—so he took his time heading to the entrance to the Hog's Head. Finally, he took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

At a table at the back of the tavern, Hermione sat with Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Draco barely noticed the other two as his eyes honed in on Hermione. She smiled at him and he could feel an electric current pass between them. His eyes unwavering from hers, he headed over to their table.

Hermione took his hand and squeezed it. "You're back to normal," she said softly.

"In a manner of speaking," he rejoined in an undertone as he settled into the seat next to her.

She continued to hold his hand under the table. He found himself absently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "Hey Malfoy," Ginny Weasley ventured, "heard you saw the new Wheezes shop."

Draco looked at Hermione and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Just how much had she told them?

Potter leaned forward and gave Draco a cheeky grin. "So you didn't think purple was your color, Malfoy? I'll bet it was an improvement."

Draco glared at him. "Who asked you, Potter?" he growled.

Hermione broke in nervously, "So, Harry, how's your work in the Auror department coming along?" She was squeezing Draco's hand so tight that she was practically cutting off his circulation.

That effectively distracted Potter, who seemed more than thrilled to talk about his stupid job. While he blabbed along, Draco signaled the bartender (who momentarily unsettled Draco with his uncanny resemblance to Albus Dumbledore) and ordered a firewhiskey. Butterbeer was not going to be nearly strong enough to get him through _this_ meeting.

Ginny watched him as he took a large gulp of firewhiskey. "You're not supposed to drink that while you're in school," she said. Hermione hadn't even noticed—she was trying to keep Potter distracted by pumping him with questions about work.

Draco set down his half-drained glass. "Yeah, well, I'm not in school right now, am I, Weasley?"

Ginny grimaced slightly. "I suppose not." She continued to stare at the glass.

On an impulse, he pushed the glass towards her. "Wanna taste?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "We're not in school right now, are we?" he added, goading her.

An impish grin appeared on Ginny Weasley's face. "You're right." she said, and drained the glass. _Blimey,_ Draco thought. _I guess these Gryffindors aren't as lame as I thought._ She set down the glass with a smack, which drew the Scarhead's attention. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing to the empty glass.

"Malfoy's firewhiskey," Ginny answered, grinning back at Potter.

Potter, indignant, turned on Draco. "Are you trying to get my girlfriend drunk, Malfoy?"

"Not particularly. But if I did, you ought to thank me for doing _you_ a favor," Draco drawled, leaning back in his seat.

Potter smirked. It seemed that the Scarhead actually had a sense of humor because he called to the bartender, "Hey, Aberforth! Send a round of firewhiskeys over."

It ended up being a good idea. After a round or two of firewhiskeys (Draco even managed to get Hermione to down a glass), everyone loosened up considerably. Hermione, who had never had a drink in her life that was stronger than butterbeer, was already showing signs of being affected by the strong drink. "He's so handsome. Isn't he handsome?" she was saying, as she smiled loopily at Draco and sighed with contentment.

"Er…okay, Hermione," Potter looked over at Ginny and grinning, rolled his eyes. Draco folded his hands behind his head, characteristic smirk on his face. He was beginning to almost enjoy himself.

Ginny threw a napkin at him. "I've been thinking, Malfoy," she began, "you're not all that bad of a Seeker, are you?"

At that, Potter snorted. In return, Draco reached forward and drained what was left in The Boy Who Snorted's glass. "Hey," Potter protested.

"Yeah, so?" Draco said warily, wiping his mouth. He could see where this was going.

"We really do need a Seeker," Ginny continued. At that, Hermione took his hand once again and squeezed it.

That blasted Potter actually started chuckling. "Oh, that'll be brilliant," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Malfoy in red robes with a silver stag on them…I'd pay galleons to see that!" He threw back his head and guffawed outright—Ginny elbowed him, trying to get him to stop, but that made Potter laugh all the more.

"Over my dead body, Weasley," Draco shot back, glaring at Potter.

Hermione leaned back in her seat and laid her head on Draco's chest. "But Draco, at least you'd still get to play," she said softly.

"The Slytherins would have a fit," Potter admitted, as he lifted his glasses and wiped his eyes. The bloody git had actually laughed until he cried.

Well, that was the only thing about the entire blasted idea that slightly appealed to him. He looked down at Hermione, who was staring up at him in unadulterated adoration. _Aw, man…_ "I dunno," he said evasively. "I still don't like it."

"At least think about it," Ginny eyed him hopefully. _Damn it. The bloody Weaselette had brown eyes, too._ Between her and Hermione's lethal pleading eyes, he was in big trouble.

"Yeah, whatever," he grunted. _I have to get away from this._ He started to get up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Bathroom," Draco muttered and started to head off towards the lavatories. He really did have to go, anyway. As he reached the men's room door, he heard a voice from behind. "There you are, Malfoy. I've been looking all over for you."

_Bugger me._ He slowly turned and found himself face-to-face with Morag MacDougal. The girly-by-the-lake, in the flesh.


	16. Round Three

Chapter 16—Round Three

Draco had never been so averse to seeing someone in his entire life as he was to seeing Morag MacDougal. At that moment, he probably would have preferred to have been face-to-face with Lord Voldemort. _Where's a lightning bolt when you need one? _he thought in desperation. Immediately falling into Malfoy-mode (his best defense mechanism), he schooled his face into a slightly bored, disdainful expression. "So you've been looking for me…how trite. Now, if you'll excuse me—" he said as he attempted to enter the men's room.

"Oh no, you don't, Malfoy…I need to talk to you!" Morag's hands were on her hips and she had a very determined look on her face. _Well, isn't this just bloody stupendous._

Draco rolled his eyes. "Can't it wait?" he said, motioning to the bathroom door.

"No, it can't! I want to know why you're telling everyone that I'm a liar, when you and I both know very well that _I'm_ the one who's telling the truth!_"_ Morag was getting louder and louder and Draco realized that he had to get her out of there as soon as humanly possible. The commotion was liable to attract attention and that was the last thing that he wanted. Anxiously, he looked around for an escape route. _There_, he thought as he spied a door that led to the back alley. "Come on," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her out the door.

Looking around, there was no one in sight which meant it was safe to have it out with her. He began to unleash his frustration on Morag in full force. "Damn it, what is your problem?" he blasted. "Why are you making such a big deal about this?"

"Because you're making me out to be the liar, when I'm _not!"_ she shouted back. "Look at you, pretending to be the great boyfriend when you're nothing but a lying, cheating prat," Morag spat venomously.

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Boy, was Shakespeare right about that one._ "I never said you lied," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, you did!"

"_NO,_ I didn't—I just didn't confirm what you said, is all." He was shaking with the effort to keep himself from strangling her.

"That's just as bad—you still made me look like a liar!"

"Then maybe you should have kept your big mouth shut!" he shot back.

"Malfoy, if you didn't want the word to get out, then you shouldn't have snogged me in the first place!" Morag's face was turning bright red.

"Well, it sure as hell was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made!" he roared.

"Draco?" a voice called through the doorway. Hermione wandered into view and she looked back and forth between Draco and Morag in puzzlement. "What are you doing out here?" She was leaning against the doorframe for support; the firewhiskey had effectively done its job.

Draco felt as if he had been placed under a Full Body-Bind. _Bloody hell, what do I do now?_ Morag looked equally frozen—at least that was one thing that was working in his favor. She was as off-balance as he and luckily, hadn't started shooting her mouth off to Hermione. There was still time…if he could just think of something.

"Er…" His mind seemed to be stuck. He couldn't think of a truthful explanation without revealing the girly-by-the-lake incident to Hermione in its entirety, and he couldn't bear to break the news to her in this way. At the very least she deserved to hear it in private.

"I, uh, I had to ask Malfoy a question about…Astronomy. Yeah, that's it!" Morag MacDougal had to be the worst liar on the face of the earth. "We have that class together," she finished lamely.

Draco was flabbergasted. Morag hadn't blown his cover! He might actually have to let her live.

"Really? Maybe I could help out, too, if you'd like…" Even when she was tipsy, Hermione Granger couldn't resist schoolwork or someone in need. She stumbled a bit as she stepped through the doorway towards them, and Draco rushed forward to steady her.

"Baby, you shouldn't be out here in your current state," he said, walking her back towards the door. "Why don't you go back to the table with the Gryffindorks and I'll be right there, okay?"

"_Baby?"_ he heard Morag exclaim in disbelief from behind him. _Hag,_ he thought with aggravation. _You _still_ deserve one hell of a hex, girly. _Then, _Morag,_ as he corrected himself. _Morag the Horag._

Hermione beamed up at him at the unexpected endearment. "You're so handsome," she sighed. "Have I told you that I think you're unbelievably handsome, Draco Malfoy?" She teetered a bit as he guided her inside.

Draco couldn't resist smirking at her behavior—she really was adorable. "Yeah, yeah, Granger. Several times. You always were good at telling it like it is." They had reached the alcove in front of the lavatories and Ginny Weasley appeared, apparently looking for Hermione. He never thought the day would come when he would be glad to see the Weaselette, but today was the day. He handed Hermione over to her. "Can you take her back to the table for me?" he asked Ginny. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure, I was wondering where she'd wandered off to," she said as she put an arm around Hermione's shoulders to steady her once again. "Come on, Hermione, I ordered us some coffee."

"Coffee? Oh, that's nice. Have I told you that I think you're unbelievably nice, Ginny Weasley?" Hermione was saying as Ginny led her back to the table.

Draco turned on his heel and rushed back out the door. Morag MacDougal was waiting for him with her arms folded and a bewildered look upon her face. She looked up at him as he approached. "You really care about her," she said, incredulous.

"So what if I do?" he returned in a brusque tone. It was none of her damn business how he felt about Hermione.

"Well, if that's the case, then why did you snog me in the first place?" she burst out in exasperation.

Draco knew he had to tread carefully. Morag seemed a little less angry at this point and if he could keep her that way, perhaps she would be willing to keep her mouth shut about the entire incident.

He looked at the ground, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and let out a long, slow breath. Then, before he could stop himself, he heard himself confess, "I guess I tried to solve one problem by creating another."

His frankness—apparently, she had been expecting more antagonism—startled Morag to such an extent that her anger seemed to melt away. "Oh. Well…I suppose you _do_ have your hands full now…" she said, awkward.

"Yeah," he said with candor, looking up at her. "That I do."

She sighed. "Malfoy, I'm not out to hurt Hermione Granger…I mean, she helped save all of us during the War; who'd want to hurt her? But you'll end up hurting her more than anybody if you don't tell her the truth, you know."

"I know, I know." He looked away from her. He felt bad enough; he didn't need a morality lecture from Morag bloody MacDougal.

"And I don't like people saying I'm a liar," she added.

"_I never said…"_

"Just tell Hermione Granger the truth, and I'll drop it, okay?" she interrupted him. "She seems to be crazy about you and doesn't deserve to be lied to."

He felt even more uncomfortable. _Damn it, will you stop stating the obvious and let me get the hell out of here?_ "Yeah, yeah, I'm going to, but not in front of an audience. _In private."_ he stressed as he looked at her pointedly. _There, happy? Now will you take the high road, MacDougal, for crying out loud?_

"You'd better. I…I had no idea the two of you were really together…I thought you were just messing with her and it was nothing serious."

"Well, I'm _not _justmessing with her," he said, his voice terse.

Her eyes went wide with astonishment. She hesitated for a moment, then, "When you do tell Hermione, can you let her know that I didn't know about you two? Tell her I'm…sorry." Morag said as she backed away from him.

Draco nodded briefly. _If I even get that far,_ he reflected. Hermione might be so upset by the news that he might not even get a chance to explain. _Merlin's balls, _he thought. _This was _not_ going to be easy. _Thoroughly preoccupied, he finally turned away from Morag MacDougal and went back into the Hog's Head.


	17. Knockout

Chapter 17—Knockout

Draco headed back to the table where he had been sitting with Hermione & company, but when he arrived its occupants had been altered considerably. Potter was sitting at one end of the table, and for some unfathomable reason, Parvati Patil was at the other. They were the only ones there. How Potter managed to distance himself so much from Parvati at a round table, Draco would have liked to know. He could also see that Potter was signaling for one last firewhiskey, but the barkeep apparently made the decision for him and slapped a butterbeer down on a coaster in front of him. Potter scowled at the butterbeer, then at Parvati, then back at his butterbeer before he finally picked up the glass and took a large swig. It appeared that Saint Scarhead had as little patience for Parvati Patil as Draco himself did.

Draco was not all that thrilled either; Harry Potter and Parvati Patil were not exactly his first choice in tablemates. _Or my second…or my nine-hundred and thirty-fourth._ He grunted at Potter and Parvati as he lowered himself into a seat that was safely distanced from the both of them and signaled the bartender for a drink, resigned to the fact that it would most likely be butterbeer.

Parvati narrowed her eyes at Draco. "Hello, Parvati, how are you today?" she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. The bartender—Aberforth, Potter had called him—slapped a glass down in front of Draco (it _was_ butterbeer), and Draco completely ignored Parvati as he began to drain his glass. At the other side of the table, Potter was unintentionally mirroring his actions. Parvati stubbornly continued her soliloquy with, "I'm fine, Malfoy, thank you _so_ much for asking."

Draco knew that Parvati wouldn't quit until she got a reaction out of him, so in order to shut her up, he gave in. He set down his glass, leaned back in his chair and gave her his patented Malfoy Glare of Scorn. "And just what are _you_ doing here, Patil?" he said, punctuating it with a mighty belch. He thought he heard Potter snort mid-swig into his butterbeer.

Parvati grimaced and continued. "Padma and I saw Harry and we thought we'd stop in for a few minutes to say hello. We haven't seen each other in so long and we wanted to catch up on things…" Meanwhile, Potter was coughing and pounding himself on the chest. He definitely must have snorted at Draco's belch and the butterbeer had gone down the wrong pipe. _Clot,_ Draco thought. _Potter, you really need to get out more._

Parvati was still blathering along as if Draco was actually interested in what she was saying, which certainly was not the case. _Just stopping in to say hello…yeah, right,_ Draco thought. _Trying to find out the latest gossip about The Boy Who Choked on Butterbeer, most likely. _Draco still didn't trust Parvati one bit and he tried to think of how he could get her to leave as soon as possible, but Potter was coughing rather loudly and the noise was distracting him.

"Potter, for crying out loud, calm down," he complained, pushing his half-drained glass towards the Scarhead.

Potter picked up the glass, took a gulp and set it down with a sigh. Mercifully, it stopped his coughing. "Thanks," he breathed with a sigh of relief.

Parvati looked back and forth between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. The sight of seeing the two of them at the same table acting almost civil towards each other was practically too bizarre to be believed. She turned back to Draco, eyeing him with suspicion. "That butterbeer's not poisoned, is it?" she said, only half-joking.

Draco gave her a malicious smile. "So nice to see you, Patil," he drawled sardonically. "When did you say you were leaving?"

Parvati rolled her eyes at him. "As soon as Padma gets back from the lavvy. I don't know what's taking her so long…" She glanced at her watch.

"She's probably chewing the fat with Ginny and Hermione. You know how girls are in the bathroom," Potter added as he finished off the butterbeer.

Draco slammed his hands down on the table. "Hermione is in the bathroom with Padma?" he asked with an edge to his voice. He had a bad feeling about this…

"_And_ Ginny," Potter clarified. "Why? What's got your wand in a knot?"

_Bugger…I have a _very_ bad feeling about this…_ Draco raked a hand through his hair distractedly and stood up. "Where are you going?" Parvati asked. She was watching him closely, wide-eyed.

"I'll be right back," he mumbled and rushed back towards the lavatories.

As he reached the alcove in front of the bathrooms, he ran smack into Padma Patil, who was looking very proud of herself. Draco felt his heart jump into his throat. _Bloody, bloody hell...I have a very, _very_ bad feeling about this._ He grabbed her by the upper arms and demanded, "Where's Hermione?"

Padma smirked back at him. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know?"

"Did you tell her anything?" he pressed angrily, giving her a bit of a shake.

"I have the right to talk to Hermione if I please," Padma shot back at him. "Maybe I didn't like you giving my sister the business and trying to blackmail—" she stopped abruptly as Hermione came out of the bathroom with Ginny. Ginny had her arm around Hermione's shoulder, and Hermione was staring at the ground. Slowly, she looked up at him, her eyes full of hurt and…disappointment.

Ginny, on the other hand, had a look on her face that almost seemed to have the power to vaporize him on the spot. "You…you…" she started, but was unable to finish.

He put up his hands in a gesture of supplication. "Granger, hold on a second before you—"

Hermione wouldn't let him finish. "Draco Malfoy," she began in a low, pained voice. "I just heard that…you had gone off and snogged…and you didn't even _say_ anything..._is this true?"_ her voice broke on the last part.

_Ah, Merlin, no. Not this way._ But he couldn't lie to her. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a deep sigh. Finally, he opened them and looked at her with his eyes full of regret. "Yes," was all he could manage.

Hermione, completely bewildered and on the verge of tears, stared back at him for a couple of heartbeats. "Oh," she choked out in a small voice. "I can't believe that…after what I _told_ you in the alley…that I can't trust you."

"_Hermione…"_

"No—I don't want to hear it now! You had _plenty_ of time to tell me, Draco, and you chose not to!" Hermione was becoming quite overwrought, and tears were beginning to slide down her cheeks.

Padma was standing off to the side looking remorseful. Apparently she hadn't thought ahead to the damage she would cause. "Hermione," she began in a wary tone.

Hermione turned on her angrily. "You can just shut your mouth, Padma Patil! You've said enough…and you were positively _bursting_ to tell me the news." Padma bit her lip and looked at her shoes.

Just then, Hermione swayed on her feet. "Hermione, come on, let's go," Ginny said consolingly as she steadied Hermione. "It's not worth the trouble," Ginny said with another glare at Draco.

"Hermione, don't do this." If she would just give him a chance to explain…

But Hermione wouldn't listen. She gave Draco one last distraught glance through her tears, shook her head at him, and let Ginny lead her away.


	18. Troubleshooting

Chapter 18—Troubleshooting

Draco eventually made it back to Hogwarts—he had left the Hog's Head via the door to the back alley because he didn't trust himself around people at the moment. Not that he thought the Potterites hadn't cleared out almost immediately after the confrontation, but if there was even the slightest chance that Padma Patil was anywhere within 100 feet of him, she was a dead woman. And he didn't need to add that to his list of transgressions just yet. Right now he had more pressing concerns.

He had to find a way to get Hermione to listen to him one-on-one, he decided. Draco had always been able to charm his way out of just about anything as far as Hermione was concerned—she had a very difficult time staying angry with him. However, he realized, this instance was above and beyond their usual tiff. If she hadn't just told him that she…loved him, if she hadn't been a bit addled by the effects of firewhiskey…and, if he had to be perfectly honest, he had just been straight up with her from the beginning and told her right away what had happened…

Draco made it to the Slytherin common room, which was thankfully empty due to the fact that practically everyone was still at Hogsmeade. He flopped into a big chair in front of the fireplace and glumly stared at the flames, his mind working rapidly. If he got Hermione alone, he thought, she would _have_ to listen to him, just out of her Gryffindor sense of fair play. He was pretty sure that if he explained himself, he could convince Hermione that it really was no big deal and that they could pick up where they had left off before Gossip Central had shown up and ruined the entire bloody thing.

That was what he would do, he decided. How to do it was another matter. He could try tomorrow, after she had had some time to sober up and calm down…perhaps he could corner her coming in or out of the Great Hall. _As long as her dragon lady escort the Weaselette wasn't there to interfere_. But if worse came to worse, they did have a few classes together; maybe he could catch Hermione before or after…or even during class; he really didn't care. Of course, trying to talk to her during class could possibly result in a detention—that possibility amused him because Hermione still hadn't forgiven him for the amount of detentions he had managed to get her in. She had complained to him once that she probably had more detentions to her name than any Head Girl in the history of Hogwarts. He told her that he seriously doubted it, but perhaps she was the only one who had enough gumption to blow up the Potions dungeon and for that, she should be proud. She had responded with a good-natured shove.

She _had_ to listen to him, Draco realized. There was no way he was going to give up that banter and all the other things that came with being with Hermione. He wouldn't even mind her telling him once again that she…loved him.

At that moment, he heard someone enter the common room. Draco looked up and saw that it was Blaise Zabini. He stopped in his tracks and stared warily at Draco, then opened his mouth as if he was about to say something. Draco cut him off.

"Don't mind me," Draco said in a tone that was dripping with sarcasm. "I was just leaving." And with that, he hauled himself out of the armchair and headed back to his dormitory room where he could sulk in privacy.

The next morning, Draco decided to try to catch Hermione first thing as she left the Gryffindor common room. He wasn't going to put anything off any longer, and he wanted to at least explain to her his version of what had happened so that she would be able to see that it really was not the big deal that Padma Patil had obviously made it out to be.

He made it down to the painting of the Fat Lady just in time for her to give him a condemning frown before she swung open to allow some Gryffindors to file out. One of them was Ginny Weasley, who immediately turned on him with a defiant glare. _Brilliant. Just the harpy that I wanted to see,_ Draco thought cynically. "What in Merlin's name are _you_ doing here, Malfoy? Haven't you done enough?" Ginny demanded.

Draco folded his arms and maintained a stubborn stance. "Weasley, why don't you try butting out for once in your life, okay?" _Now beat it, before I say what I really want to say to you which will _definitely_ not put me on Hermione's good side…_

Ginny looked indignant. "You have got a lot of nerve—"

"Ginny, it's okay." Both Draco and Ginny turned at the sound of the new voice. It was Hermione. She was clutching a rather large book to her chest (_Studying on a Sunday…that figures,_ Draco mused) and was pointedly keeping her eyes on Ginny so that she wouldn't have to look at him. Not the best sign, but at least she hadn't told him to get lost.

Ginny, loath to depart, looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione with great suspicion. "I don't know…" she wavered.

"Really, Ginny, I'm fine," Hermione insisted, giving her a tight smile.

"Well, okay, but if you need me…"

"I know." Hermione gave Ginny a hug and Ginny reluctantly walked down the hall, looking back once or twice at Draco with great mistrust.

When the coast was clear, Hermione glanced at Draco and let out a slow breath. "Hello, Draco," she said in a formal, flat tone.

"Hi," he answered. He distractedly ran a hand through his hair. This was not going to be easy. "Uh, Granger, I just wanted to explain what happened—"

Hermione held up a hand. "Actually, I got a full description from Morag this morning. She and Padma stopped by my dorm in order to clarify the whole thing."

_Merlin's balls. This is just getting better and better. _"Now hold on a minute, Granger," Draco persisted, indignant. Those blasted Ravenclaws had done quite enough damage. He was not going to sit idly by and watch them blast his relationship with Hermione to smithereens.

Hermione talked right over him, raising her voice slightly. "_And_ Morag told me that it really was no big deal, and how you had actually been the one to push her away."

Draco had opened his mouth to retort and froze in surprise. _What the hell?_ Thrown off of his rhythm, he hesitated for a moment. "Really?" he finally asked.

"Yes," she answered softly. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. "Well," he ventured, "that's just what I came over to tell you, Granger." _Thank Merlin she understands and this entire bloody mess is all over._ He moved towards her and reached out to tug on one of her curls.

Hermione moved away from him. "Wait a minute, Draco; that doesn't make everything all right."

"Why the hell not? Granger, I made a stupid mistake, and I admit it. Case closed, okay?"

"No, Draco, _not_ okay. You lied to me, and I thought that you were someone that I could always count on to tell me the truth." Hermione was clutching her book to her chest as if she were using it to shield her heart from him. It was making his stomach churn with…_guilt_.

"I _didn't_ lie," he insisted as he looked at the floor.

"Yes you did! When you deliberately leave out something important like that, you're lying by omission and you know it!"

He looked up at her in frustration. "So you're saying that I should have said_, 'Oi, Granger, just thought you'd like to know that I half-snogged Horag MacDougal by the lake after our fight the other day,'_ and you would have said, _'Oh, Draco, that's wonderful! Let's go run through a field of daisies together?_'" he drawled sarcastically.

Hermione glared at him. "That's not funny," she fumed.

Draco sighed. "I know, I know," he conceded, "But I didn't think you would stick around for an explanation, okay? And come on, can you honestly say that you would have been okay with hearing about that from me?"

"Maybe I would have appreciated your honesty. Did you ever think of that?"

Draco snorted. "Gobshite. I have _never_ had anyone tell me that it was okay to make a mistake."_ My father would have loved to have had my head on a platter whenever I screwed up,_ Draco reflected. _In fact, the only thing that kept him from doing so was my mum. But even so, she never let me forget it either, pureblooded perfectionist that she is._

Hermione took a deep breath. "Draco," she began, "one day you just might realize that maybe I'm a little different than anyone else you know. I can't keep paying for the fact that other people have wronged you."

_Damn. I'm messing this up again. These Gryffindors don't talk like normal people. _

"Draco, I told you that I _loved_ you."

He felt his face get warm and he looked back down at the floor. "I know."

"So doesn't that deserve _something?_ The truth, at the very least?" she pressed, her voice becoming strained. At the sound of it, Draco looked up at her.

Hermione was trembling with emotion. He had obviously put her under a great deal of strain and he immediately felt sorry. He stepped forward and took her hands in his. _"Hermione,"_ he said softly, stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. _I wish I knew what to say to you to make you feel better, Granger, but I'm afraid I'm just not wired that way._ She stared down at their hands for a moment.

Finally, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Draco," she said, her voice quavering as she fought to hold back the tears. "I know I told you that you didn't have to say anything when I told you that I loved you, but…but…_Merlin's pants_, couldn't you just maybe find a way to at least _show_ me every once in a while?" And with that, she pulled her hands out of his and took off down the hall.

For several moments, Draco stared out at the direction in which Hermione had departed. _Granger, Granger, Granger, _he thought,_ you're trying to bloody kill me. _But he was not going to accept defeat that easily, he resolved. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys always got what they wanted. _Bugger me…I guess desperate times call for desperate measures._ He knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath to steel his resolve, turned, and purposefully strode off down the hall in the opposite direction.


	19. Penance

Chapter 19—Penance

After a bit of sneaking and spying, Draco had the information he needed in order to complete Operation Show Hermione That I Give a Damn. He just hoped that he had the stomach to complete it, he thought as he headed towards his destination. He felt his gut lurch. _Please_ _just get me through this without any projectile vomiting,_ he pleaded to no one in particular. Finally, he reached the door and yanked it open with his free hand before he changed his mind and chickened out.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the door and headed down the pathway to the Quidditch pitch with broom in hand.

When he reached the edge of the field, he could see Ginny Weasley with the rest of her team huddled about her, listening to a game plan that she was explaining as she pointed to some sort of book she was holding. _It's probably my goddamn Quidditch magazine,_ Draco thought sourly as he approached. _I can't believe I'm doing this..._

Just then, one of the players saw Draco and started in surprise. That got the attention of the other team members and they followed the gaze of their teammate, resulting in six pairs of apprehensive eyes resting on Draco Malfoy. For a moment, every player on the Gryffindor Quidditch team froze and stared at him in astonishment. One boy actually dropped his broom, thoroughly stunned.

As much as he didn't want to be there, Draco almost wished he had a picture of the entire Gryffindork Quidditch team shocked to their bloody socks at the sight of seeing him on their turf. It would have been quite amusing if it didn't involve him actually having to do what he was about to do.

Before he could speak, one of the beaters (Peakes, he suspected—the clodhopper who had bashed their Seeker's head in with his sub-par beating technique) called out, "Get lost, Malfoy! We don't need any Slytherin spies at our practice!"

"Yeah!" a couple of players chimed in.

Draco assumed an arrogant Malfoy stance, planting his broom firmly in front of him and holding on to it with both hands, gazing at them over the top of it in a condescending manner. "How many spies approach you out in the open, Gryffindork? And I thought you lot were so insistent on there being no houses anymore, either," he retorted. At that remark, a gust of wind caught the cape of his Quidditch robes and caused it to furl out from his sides. The contrast between the green and the red robes was made glaringly obvious. _Perfect timing,_ Draco thought cynically.

Ginny Weasley had finally recovered from her initial shock. "Malfoy, just what do you think you're doing here? You've got a lot of nerve showing your face…" _Blast it,_ _Weasley, you're beginning to sound like a Repetition Charm. _He talked right over her. "Well, Miss, 'We really do need a Seeker', it's your lucky day. I'm here to offer my services, as requested by _you_." _Now can it and let's get this over with._

The team turned on Ginny, erupting in pandemonium. "You _invited_ him?" "Why _Malfoy_, of all people?" You have got to be kidding!" "Bloody hell!" "Impossible!"

Ginny held up her hands. "Stop, stop! I didn't mean it—it must have been a combination of temporary insanity and too much firewhiskey," she said as she shot a contemptuous glare in Draco's direction.

Draco held his ground. "Oh…I don't think so, Weasley. And I can see you still haven't found a replacement Seeker, yet you're playing Team Venom in two days," he said as he pointedly looked at the six-person team.

The team members looked at each other in dismay; they couldn't refute what he had said. Pressing his advantage, he added haughtily, "And I _have_ been playing Quidditch longer than anyone on your little team." He made a show of adjusting his gloves as he secretly peered at their faces out of the corner of his eye. At least two of them seemed to be considering what he had said; one still looked completely unconvinced, while two others seemed either confused or concerned. But he could care less about what they thought. The final decision was up to the Weaselette, and her mouth was pressed together in a thin line. He wasn't exactly sure what _that_ meant.

The other five players looked at Ginny expectantly to see what she would say. _Doesn't anyone on this team have a mind of their own? Bloody sheep,_ Draco thought derisively as he felt his heart pound in anticipation. _Come on, Weasley, just say it, come on…_

Ginny hesitated. "I don't think I can have someone on my team who has lied to my best friend," she finally called out.

_Bloody busybody Weaselette._ He _really_ didn't want to open that can of flobberworms all over again. "What does _that_ have to do with Quidditch, anyway?" he said, rolling his eyes with impatience_. Just stick the knife in deeper, Weasley, why don't you?_

"Nothing. And everything. How do you expect to be a team player if you can't be trusted?" Ginny said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Look, Weasley, do you want a Seeker or not? It's you're choice," he burst out in frustration. He was _not_ going to stand on trial in front of the entire bloody Gryffindor Quidditch team. Or the Silver Slugs, or whatever the hell their name was now. _This was a stupid idea,_ he thought, and turned away before Ginny had a chance to answer.

"Wait!" Ginny called out from behind him. He turned to see her angrily muttering under her breath. Good. At least she wasn't enjoying this, either. She swallowed and said with great difficulty, "Don't go. As much as I hate to admit it, _we need you." _The other players stared at her, wide-eyed and completely taken aback. "But I need to talk to you and get a few things straight first, Malfoy. There definitely have to be some conditions to this…_arrangement._" She said the last word with distaste.

_I'll give you conditions…how about this one: I play, and you shut the hell up. Permanently._ He forced himself to bite his tongue and give a stiff nod of his head. "Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth.

She turned to her team. "Excuse me for a moment—this won't take long. Everybody take a five-minute break." She strode towards Malfoy and jerked her head towards the bleachers. "Follow me," she said to him and headed off in that general direction.

_Weasley, that is some Napoleon complex you've got there._ Clutching his broom tight enough to break the handle, he spun on his heel and reluctantly followed her towards the bleachers.

When they were a sufficient distance away from the rest of the team, Ginny settled herself into a bleacher seat and looked up at Draco with great skepticism. "You are going to have to do some fancy explaining as to why you've changed your mind about playing for our team all of a sudden."

Draco grimaced and dropped into a seat about two away from hers. He propped his feet up on the seat in front of him and stared off at the field for a moment. Finally, he muttered, "Hermione wanted me to."

"_That's_ what your changed your mind? I didn't think you cared about what she thought at all, after what you did!"

Draco scowled at her. "Do you think I _want_ to be here, Weasley? It's not for me, you know. I could force my way back on to the Slytherin team at any time, if I really wanted to. They're all flying brooms that were donated by my father, for crying out loud!" He looked back out at the field and continued, slightly self-conscious, "All I know is that the best way to please Granger seems to be helping out her blasted friends. She was bloody ecstatic when I agreed to meet you and Potter and the Weasel King, so I thought that _this_ might show her that…that…" He found himself unable to complete the sentence.

Ginny's mouth had fallen open in surprise halfway through his speech, but she quickly recovered and added, "That you lo—" She stopped mid-word at his condemning glare, and quickly corrected herself. "That you care," she said softly.

He ran a hand through his hair and pointedly kept his eyes on the field. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Ginny was doing a poor job of trying to hide a knowing smile. "Wow," she breathed. "You really are a softie underneath all that sarcasm and snobbishness, aren't you?"

Draco immediately shot her his best Malfoy Glare of Scorn. It did the job. "Okay, okay…forget I said that," Ginny said, holding up her hands in surrender. "It might even work. Although you really did make a mess of things, you know. You really ought to write a book…_How to Dig Your Own Grave, _by Draco Malfoy." Ginny said, as she leaned back in the bleacher seat, her arms folded across her chest.

"Well, I'd hate to knock _your_ book off of the best-seller's list," he quipped, still staring off into the distance.

"_My_ book?"

"Yeah…you know, _How to Flout Your Gryffindor Snout in Other People's Business_."

It was Ginny's turn to grimace. "Wonderful," she said in an acerbic tone. "Well," she added, getting up out of her seat, "Come on. Let's see if this idea of yours is actually going to work out."


	20. Concessions

**Before I go on with this chapter—one I had a _great deal _of fun with—I just wanted to thank everyone again for the reviews I've been getting. Nothing motivates me more then a nice, juicy review...they truly are my inspiration.**

**Also, I wanted to mention that I've been working on a project with another fanfic author—a private forum where we'll be posting not only all of our fanfiction but also the original stuff I've been working on, including material from the Original Novel I've almost finished. Basically, _all _of my work, including material that has _never _been posted before will be there (no waiting), and it will be accessible via membership. So if you're interested in accessing more of my current material, please PM me for early membership. Thanks! :)**

**And now I'll shut up so you can read...**

Chapter 20—Concessions

If not anything else, Quidditch practice was definitely…_eventful_. Even though Ginny had introduced Draco to the rest of the Silver Stags as their new Seeker, only about half of the team seemed willing to accept it. Unfortunately, the half that was loath to cooperate happened to be the team's two Beaters, Jimmy Peakes _(bloody clodhopper)_ and Ritchie Coote _(pipsqueak)._ Their way of making their opinion of Malfoy abundantly clear was to "accidentally" miss any Bludger that was flying in Draco's direction. After the fourth time that Draco got clobbered in the back of the head (that one infuriated him in particular because he had just been about to grab the Snitch), he had very nearly fallen off of his broom. After righting himself, he angrily whipped off his shoe and hurled it at the nearest Beater with all his might. It hit Peakes square in the face and bloodied his nose.

"Malfoy! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" Ginny hollered at him, aghast.

"Giving that prat a taste of his own medicine, that's what I'm doing!" he shot back. As Coote flew past, Draco fired a venomous glare at him and growled, "And I've got another shoe with your name on it if you don't watch your step, shrimpy."

Ginny reached him just as Coote flew away. "Malfoy," Ginny warned him under her breath, "can you try being a little less…_yourself_ and not provoke the team members so much?"

"Dammit, they started it! I have been hit four times already—"

"Yeah, but that could have been an accident."

Draco was indignant. "Do I look like I was born yesterday, Weasley? Four times is no accident!"

"Well, it's _definitely_ not an accident to hit somebody in the face with your shoe!" Ginny's face was strained. She had been trying her best to keep the practice running as smooth as possible and it looked like the pressure was finally getting to her. She took a deep breath and looked at him beseechingly. "Can you please, _please_ try to get through this practice without antagonizing and alienating the entire team?"

Draco wanted to press the matter further, but unfortunately, Ginny Weasley also happened to have brown eyes, and they were turned on him in full force. It reminded him of Hermione. _Aw, man…_ He grimaced; then grunted a reluctant affirmative.

As Ginny flew away, Draco took a deep breath to clear his head and soared up high over the pitch, far out of any other player's range. He decided that the best course of action would be to work on his own skill and basically pretend that the rest of the team didn't exist_. That might make it more tolerable…imagining that I'm not playing on_ any _team, especially not one named after_ _Potter the Perfect._ Before he knew it, he noticed the Snitch darting about nearby and with a quick dip and rotation over his broom, he had caught it in mere seconds.

As he descended to where the rest of the team was, he was surprised to see every player on the team staring at him in astonishment. The Beater bogeys seemed amazed that Draco was capable of making a successful play (_Bloody gits,_ Draco thought bitterly), but he also noticed that the Chasers were beginning to look hopeful. "That was a pretty fancy move!" one of them exclaimed. He remembered that she had a funny name like Esmerelda or Demelza, or something like that.

Ginny was grinning. "We may have a chance at winning if we can just hold this team together." She looked over at the Beaters pointedly. _"Right, _guys?"

The Beaters grunted and sullenly nodded their heads.

"Okay, then," Ginny said, satisfied. "Everybody get to their positions and let's try it one more time."

Draco realized that the best way to get back at the Beaters was to outperform them as much as possible. Over the next hour he managed to catch the Snitch six times, a personal record for him. Interestingly, he was playing better than he had in quite a long time, probably since the last game he had played against Potter. The Boy Who Scored had been a decent Quidditch player, Draco grudgingly had to admit, and unless Slytherin had been playing Gryffindor, Draco found that he really didn't have to try all that hard. Now, it was different. Now he was actively pushing himself to excel—something he rarely did—and the results were remarkable.

After his last Snitch catch, Draco sailed past Peakes and Coote on his broom, laying back with his head pillowed on the bristle end, the rest of his body balanced down the handle, feet crossed casually with one arm propped behind his head and the other holding up the Snitch as he mock-examined it. It was a trick he had come up with years ago to irk his team captain because from a distance it looked like he was actually sleeping on his broom. "Look at that," he remarked offhandedly as he passed the Beaters. "Another quick catch. That was almost _too_ easy." The Beaters glared at him in unison but held their tongues, especially since that last catch had been so spectacular that the Weaslette had actually cheered.

Quidditch practice finally came to a close and Draco had to admit to himself (but certainly not to anyone else) that he had almost enjoyed it. He was always happy when he got a chance to rile someone who annoyed him, and he had even begun to like the way some of the Gryffindors made a fuss every time he had executed something particularly impressive. The Slytherins had never had anything good to say, even when he had won the game for them by an excessively large margin. _I might actually be able to pull this off without wanting to die of humiliation for associating with Gryffindorks,_ he found himself thinking hopefully as he touched down onto the field.

As the team disbanded and started to go their separate ways, Ginny approached Draco once more. "We'll need to sneak in one more practice in the back field after classes tomorrow," she told him. "Just to make sure we know what we're doing."

Draco nodded an affirmative as he pulled off his gloves. Ginny watched him for a moment; then finally asked, "So, are you off to tell Hermione about this momentous event?"

He looked up at her sharply. "No! And neither are you."

Ginny looked confused. "Wait a minute, I thought the whole reason you were doing this was to get back in Hermione's good graces."

"It is."

"Then why don't you want Hermione to know?" Ginny wailed in exasperation.

Draco avoided making eye contact with her. "I'm not going to go running to her like a puppy wanting to be rewarded after doing one good thing, Weasley," he muttered. "She has to see that I mean it, so I'm going to wait until the game."

Ginny was astounded. "Merlin's beard," she exclaimed softly. "You really _do_ lo—"

He shot her a severely warning look.

"I mean," she corrected herself, "you really are serious about this."

"Yeah, I am. So if you flap your lip to Hermione, I'm going to have to come after you and shove my bloody Quidditch magazine down your throat."

Ginny smirked at him. "You don't scare me, Malfoy. Now that I know what a softie you _really_ are." Draco shot her a look that was full of malice but she grinned back at him cheekily, then turned and began to head up the path towards the castle.

"Where the hell _is_ my magazine, anyway, Weasley?" he shouted after her. The only answer he got was the bloody Weaselette's laughter floating on the breeze in her wake.


	21. Compromises

Chapter 21—Compromises

The next day, classes resumed and Draco was almost grateful for it. At least he had _something_ to occupy his time until his first Quidditch match the following evening. He actually tried to stay awake through his morning classes and even attempted to take a few notes here and there. _Granger would be amazed, _he thought with a smirk. A few times when they had studied together (or at least tried…Draco's idea of "studying" was to study Hermione's body by feel while he snogged the hell out of her), Hermione was incredulous over how he managed to hold his own in his classes with practically no note-taking and very minimal studying. He informed her that it was due to his superior Malfoy intellect, to which Hermione responded with a very unladylike snort. After that, she had tried to push a study planner off on him, but he flatly refused and also recommended that they _not_ study together any more, because each person's habits were obviously driving the other nuts. That was the beginning of a long line of compromises.

_Compromises._ This latest one was the biggest compromise he had ever made in his entire life (voluntarily, anyway), and he still wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He was doing something that, a year ago, he would have preferred death over, and it was all to show Hermione what he wasn't quite ready or able to say. And it was such a drastic change for him that Draco was a bit worried that he would be losing a part of himself in the process. But then again, he felt that he had already lost a big part of himself back at the Hog's Head when Hermione had looked at him with her eyes so full of hurt and disappointment. It still bothered him a great deal more than he would have liked to admit.

And then it was time for Transfiguration, a class that the two of them had together. This would be the first time that Draco would see Hermione since their…_discussion_ the previous day. He was pretty sure that Hermione would take great pains to ignore him, as she usually did whenever she was cross with him. He could see it all now—she would march right up to the front of the room and create a veritable Great Wall of Textbooks around her to keep anyone from sitting next to her. She had tried that ploy on him once before, but it hadn't worked. He had retaliated by forcing himself right into the seat next to her and antagonizing her until he had managed to get the both of them detention. Ah, the memories…

As he entered the classroom, he found that Hermione was already seated in the front row, a rather large moat of books already in place around her, which brought a smirk to his face. _Do I know this girl, or what? _He knew that attempting anything with her before she had a chance to calm down would probably not be the best idea, so the detention ploy was definitely out of the question this time around. Besides, if he got detention, his Quidditch solution would no longer be a possibility.

But Draco had gone without his dose of Hermione for a while, so he couldn't quite resist the opportunity to get a small dose now. He sauntered up the aisle and plopped down into the seat right behind her, but she was so into her little pre-class-prep ritual that she wasn't even aware of his presence. He stared at the back of her fuzzy head, his hands itching to twine in those crazy curls. _Granger, if you only knew what I was putting myself through…bloody Seeker for the Silver Slugs with the disciples of Potter and the Weaselette…that should at least merit me a tug on that curl, damn it. Stubborn, stubborn Gryffindor…_

As he grumbled to himself, the classroom filled up and Hermione _still_ hadn't noticed that Draco was sitting right behind her. Wanting so badly to at least get some type of reaction out of her, he made a grand show of loudly clearing his throat. The sound his voice in such close proximity made Hermione jump about a foot. As he watched the back of her head jolt, he couldn't help but grin in response.

Hermione slowly looked over her shoulder at Draco with narrowed eyes and a disapproving frown. He responded by tilting his head down and staring up at her through the hair that had fallen across his forehead as he quirked an eyebrow at her. Startled, her eyes flew open and she whirled around in her seat and stoically faced the front of the class.

He hadn't realized just how much he had missed their banter until that moment.

The rest of the class was uneventful, mainly because Draco didn't want to press his luck too much at this point. He was going to bide his time until the Quidditch match, and then Hermione would see that he cared enough to make an absolute arse of himself by wearing a blasted red robe (what a horrible, garish color) and flying around with a bunch of Potter-loving buffoons like some brainless twit…_calm down Draco, calm down,_ he told himself. _It'll be all over in one more day. _

And then there was Charms…the following class which Draco also happened to have with Hermione…and Parvati and Padma Patil...and the Weaselette. _Bugger me…isn't this just a bloody bed of blasted roses._ Draco toyed with the idea of cutting the class, but again, there would be the risk of getting detention. _This is probably the first time in my life that I actually give a damn as to whether or not I get detention. How inconvenient. _He trudged over to Charms as if he were headed to the guillotine.

When he reached the Charms classroom, Hermione was once again seated at the front of the room, her textbook barrier firmly in place. The seats behind her were occupied by the Patil harpies, of all people, and as he headed towards his seat he noticed that Padma turned around and watched him with a remorseful look on her face. Apparently, she still had some residual guilt about the damage that she had caused. Parvati, on the other hand, glared at him as if he were the most grotesque troll on the face of the earth. _At least some things don't change,_ Draco mused as he dropped into his seat and arrogantly propped his feet up on the table. He noticed that the Patil twins had continued to watch him, so he sneered back at them while scratching the side of his face using a rude hand gesture. It had the desired effect—in unison, the Patils huffed and turned away from him.

Then Ginny Weasley entered the room. _She had better not spill the beans about the Quidditch team,_ Draco thought forebodingly. If she gave any hint away as to what he was up to, it could ruin everything for him. Draco felt his entire body go tense as he grumbled to himself. _Bloody blabbermouth busybody bossy buggering Weaselette… _

But she didn't say a word. She didn't even let on that she didn't loathe him any less than usual. She simply raised her eyebrows at him in a silent salute as she passed his table and plopped down next to Hermione. Or as close as she could get to Hermione, as submerged as Hermione was within her moat of books.

_Okay, I take it back. She's only a bloody busybody bossy buggering Weaselette. Who steals Quidditch magazines._

And so class progressed, and it was relatively uneventful until Professor Flitwick began to lecture about Mood Spells, starting with Cheering Charms because they were a review and therefore, a good place to start.

Parvati Patil must have still had a bee in her bonnet at Draco, because at one point she raised her hand and asked in a very smart-mouthed tone, "Professor Flitwick, is there any Cheering Charm that would be powerful enough to turn Malfoy into a human being?"

Draco didn't even take offense because it was such a ridiculous thing to say. To the contrary, he found it rather amusing and not really worth a response. Ginny Weasley didn't seem to think so, however. She was glaring at Parvati over her shoulder, red-faced and had opened her mouth to retort. _Shut your trap, Weasley, it'll look suspicious._ Draco got ready to interrupt her with a set-down for Patil so that no one would notice Ginny's indignation, but he, in turn, was interrupted by yet another voice.

"Parvati Patil! If I knew a spell powerful enough to change someone's entire personality, the first person I'd use it on was _you!"_

It was Hermione.

Flabbergasted, Draco stared at her, his insult completely forgotten. Hermione, flushed and embarrassed by her display of emotion, floundered for a moment as she looked around, self-conscious. It seemed that she was just as surprised that she had spoken aloud as anyone else. Then, remembering herself, she turned and began to gather up her books.

"Professor Flitwick," she said in an urgent tone as she stood up, "may I please be excused?"

Flitwick had been watching the entire scene with his mouth formed into a silent "O", but he instantly recovered. "Of course, Miss Granger…if you must." Hermione left the classroom with her head down and without a backward glance.

Draco couldn't keep a smug grin from spreading over his face. _So…the Head Girl still cared more than she'd like to let on…guess she's not as immune to the Malfoy charm as she wants me to think_.

Soon after, Flitwick dismissed the class due to the fact that the drama that had ensued effectively made it near impossible for anyone to focus on spellwork. Draco remained in his seat, grinning cockily to himself as the other students began to file out of the classroom. The Patil twins marched out of the room together—Parvati's nose stuck up in the air high enough to merit a nosebleed, whereas Padma still looked rather glum. When the classroom was just about empty, Ginny Weasley stopped at his table.

"You just may have a shot with this crazy plan of yours, Malfoy," she muttered. "And don't forget about the secret practice in the back field later this afternoon."

Draco nodded as he placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. _Yes, this just might work,_ he thought as he continued to grin. _I'll just have to make absolutely certain that it does…_


	22. Preparations

Chapter 22—Preparations

Time seemed to fly after the Patil-insulting incident for Draco. In order to keep his mind off of the fact that he was voluntarily playing Quidditch for Gryffindor (technically, it was the Silver Stags, but Draco wanted to think of _that_ particular name as little as humanly possible), he tried to focus on his technique and spoke to his…_teammates_…only when absolutely necessary. It worked out rather well because none of them had much to say being as he was performing so brilliantly in practice. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them to politely tolerate each other's presence as long as neither side got too close, and that was just fine with Draco.

He was also sleeping well, even without his daily dose of Hermione, due to the fact that he was pushing himself so much on the Quidditch field. _Never thought I'd be saying this, but if I can just make it to this bloody Quidditch match, I should be okay._ Draco actually felt like he was on borrowed time. Everything depended on whether or not this idea of his would work; if it didn't, he had no back up plan. Therefore, he refused to even consider the possibility that the ploy might not be successful. _It has to work, damn it…it just has to._

And finally, the day of the match arrived. Draco practically slept through all of his classes in order to conserve his energy as much as possible…and, to be perfectly honest, to keep from getting too anxious about the upcoming chain of events_. What if it didn't…no, no; it was going to work. Most definitely…I think. Zzzzzzzzzzzz…_

He outright snarked in his sleep so loudly that he woke himself up in Potions. He didn't even get in trouble because Professor Slughorn had taken to ignoring him in class, mainly due to the fact that Slughorn had started to develop a nervous tic whenever he saw Draco. As Draco forced himself to sit up and rub his eyes, he noticed Hermione frowning at him over her shoulder. Reflexively, he shot her a slow smirk and a wink. Once again, her eyes grew wide and she whirled around in her seat and faced back towards the front of the class.

_Hold that thought, Granger. Keep your eyes on me for just a little while longer and you'll see something that you've wanted to see for quite some time._

About an hour before he was supposed to meet his…_team_…at the locker rooms, he went back to his dormitory in order to complete the finishing touch to his plan. He went over to his writing desk, took out a sheet of parchment and a quill, and began to write. When he was satisfied with what he had written, he folded it up, drew his signature dragon on the front of the note and sealed the other side with wax.

Then he went down to the Owlery and spotting his owl, extended his arm and watched it descend from the rafters. When it reached him, he tied the note to its leg and gave it special instructions as to the exact time that he needed the letter to be delivered, as this was particularly important.

As he watched his owl fly away, he realized that it was finally time to meet the rest of his…_team_. He felt his stomach lurch as he picked up his broom and headed over to the Silver Slugs locker room.

When he got there, Ginny Weasley was waiting for him outside the locker room doors with a bundle of cloth in her arms. _Bloody hell, what now?_ Then he realized what it was that she was holding. The cloth was such a bright red that it seemed to literally pulsate in her arms. _Merlin's blue balls. _It was his new Quidditch uniform. He felt himself grimace in distaste. _How utterly tacky._

In response, Ginny shoved the uniform at him. "Like it or not, Malfoy, this is for you. You know very well that you can't play for our team in those mangy old green and black robes of yours."

Draco took the uniform from her as if it were a dead, smelly fish and quipped, "Mangy? I am a Malfoy; I don't own a _thing_ that could be considered mangy, Weasley. In fact, if I want to know what mangy is, I have to take the time out to go and observe others. Your brother, the Weasley King, would be a prime example…"

"Yeah, whatever Malfoy, why don't you save that sass for the game, okay?" She turned and headed towards the door that led to the girl's lockers. "Now hurry up and get ready. We're all going to meet at the back corridor that leads out to the pitch."

Draco looked down at the red and silver robes in his hands. This was it. There would be no turning back now. He let out a long, slow breath.

"Hey, Malfoy." He looked up. Ginny had stuck her head out of the girl's locker room door. "Good luck."

He forced himself to give her his politest grunt. He watched her head disappear, then turned and headed into the boy's locker room.

Entering the locker room, he tossed the uniform onto the nearest bench. _Blast,_ he thought. The colors of the robes were so bloody loud that he practically needed earplugs to look at them. _Ugh._ He had to turn away from them for a moment and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. _Gryffindork_ colors. How in the hell was he supposed to pull this off? He tentatively reached out and unfolded the robes to reveal a huge silver stag emblazoned across the back of the cape. Potter's Patronus. _Bugger me to all hell. _He was actually going to go out in front of the entire bloody school and fly with Potter's blasted Patronus plastered across his back for all to see_. I must be out of my Goddamned mind._

Then suddenly, Hermione's big, brown eyes, looking at him as she had at the Hog's Head—with utter adoration—flashed into his mind. _Aw, man…_ With a groan, he changed into the robes in record time, before he had a chance to think too much about what he was doing.

As he was exiting the locker room, he passed a full-length mirror and was unable to resist a glance at himself. _Someone please hex me now,_ he thought as he stared in horrified fascination at the sight of himself in the crimson robes. Although…he had to admit that the bright color did set off his white-blonde hair rather admirably._ I can even make _this_ look good,_ he mused to himself as he smirked at his reflection in the mirror. With one last glance, he left the locker room and headed towards the back corridor where the rest of his…_team_…would be congregating.

They were all waiting for him at the designated location, and as the Silver Stags spotted Draco in his new team robes heading towards them, they all broke out into applause and wolf-whistles. Ginny was snickering at the scowl that Draco knew was plastered across his face.

"All right, all right, everybody," he said, holding up his hand. "I have only _one_ thing to say to all of you."

The entire team waited in anticipation.

"Shut the hell up."

"Malfoy," Ginny said, rolling her eyes, "get used to it. You're officially a Stag now, so cut the crap."

Peakes and Coote, the Beaters, smirked at Draco as they eyed him up and down. It seemed that they were really enjoying Draco's discomfort in the bright red stag-laden robes. Draco shot them a dirty look. This entire exchange was occurring simultaneously with Ginny's pre-game pep-talk, of which Draco hadn't heard a single word.

"Okay then, Stags!" Ginny was concluding her pep-talk. "Let's win this game!"

"YEAH!" Everyone on the team shouted back but Malfoy. He was too preoccupied with what was about to happen.

The entire team began to head towards the doors that lead to the Quidditch pitch, and Draco's heart began to race. He could hear the huge crowd outside in the stands stomping and cheering already. _Here goes nothing._ He took a deep breath and began to follow them towards the doors that lead towards the din, the pitch, and his last resort.


	23. Action

**Well, here it is—another one of my favorite chapters! I'm especially interested to hear what you think about this one…reviews would be much appreciated.**

Chapter 23—Action

The Silver Stags exited through the doors and headed down the dark tunnel that lead out to the Hogwarts Quidditch stadium. The cheering was getting louder and louder, and Draco's heart was beginning to pound faster and faster in response to the crowd's rhythmic stomping. It was the first Quidditch match of the season, and the excitement was at a fevered pitch. In the distance, Draco could see the light at the end of the tunnel and knew that right about now, his owl would be delivering the note that he had written to Hermione, which he had unconsciously memorized:

_Hermione,_

_Even though you may not want to admit it, you've been thinking about me these past couple of days, and even though I rarely admit such things, I've been thinking about you, too. _

_I know that your main issue with me is that very thing, that I rarely admit such things. Unfortunately, it's just not something I'm good at. _

_I meant it when I said I'm a man of action. Everybody knows that actions speak louder than words, and if you still don't know how I feel about you, then you need to take a look up at the sky right about now._

_Hope it's coming in loud & clear._

_M._

Ginny's shout, barely heard over the clamoring crowd, broke Draco out of his reverie. "Okay team, let's do this! Everybody mount your brooms!" Draco could feel his hands shaking as he steadied his grip on his broom.

The team, rapt with anticipation, waited for their introduction which blared in from the stadium entrance. "And introducing…_THE SILVER STAGS!"_ Pandemonium ensued from the crowd as all seven players soared at breakneck speed down through the end of the tunnel and emerged one by one into the stadium, each breaking into view as their name was called. "Playing Beaters…_Ritchie Coote!_ Aaaaand…_Jimmy Peakes!"_ The crowd erupted in response to each player's entrance. "Team Captain and head Chaser…_Ginny Weasley!"_ A huge explosive cheer followed the Weaselette's name, and then it came. Draco, being Seeker, would be the last player announced. "And last but not least, playing Seeker for The Silver Stags…_DRACO MALFOY?"_

As one, the entire Quidditch stadium gasped in disbelief as Draco rocketed into view, accompanying the unbelievable announcement of his affiliation with the aforementioned team. He could feel his stomach lurch in response. He realized that with that announcement, something had been changed irrevocably; he had voluntarily made a choice to step onto a path in which his life would never be quite the same ever again. Was it worth it?

And then, in the distance, he could hear a lone voice crying out over the hushed crowd: _"MERLIN'S PANTS!"_

He could feel himself smirking in response. Yes, it was worth it. Just for that reaction. It enabled him to recover his usual Malfoy poise and he found himself sitting up rather haughtily on his broom and smirking down his nose at the crowd that was staring up at him in utter shock. Ginny Weasley flew past him in order to get to her position, and he could see that she had enjoyed the reaction that his announcement had gotten and had a satisfied grin on her face. He remembered her saying something in their last team practice about how he might just turn out to be their "secret weapon", because Team Venom would be momentarily stunned when they saw their former Seeker now playing against them. This would give the Stags an early psychological advantage.

And it seemed that she was right. As The Silver Stags swept into their positions in a half-circle facing the one that had already been formed by Team Venom, Draco inspected each of the seven faces of his former teammates—their expressions ranged from incredulity (Zabini), to dread (Nott), to outright loathing (Harper). Every single Venom teammate's eyes were focused solely on Draco and they seemed unable to process what they were witnessing right in front of their eyes. Draco loved every minute of it—one of his favorite things in the world to do was mess with people whom he felt had wronged him, and he basked in their animosity like a flower in the sun. He made a point to jauntily adjust the collar of his robes as they stared, calling as much attention as possible to his new uniform. _At least this horrid, vulgar color comes in handy for something,_ he thought with a smirk.

And before they knew it, the Quaffle had been thrown into the air by Madame Hooch, and the Stags immediately gained possession of it. Mainly because every single member of Team Venom had been so shocked by the fact that their former teammate was now facing them in Silver Stag robes that they completely missed the Quaffle toss, and not a single one of them had reacted.

The ring of the bell as the Stags had scored ("Nice goal by Ginny Weasley!") seemed to shake Team Venom out of their stupor. "Malfoy," Harper growled, shaking his fist at Draco, "you blood traitor! You're going to be sorry you were ever born!"

In response, Draco leaned back on his broom, saluted Harper with a rude hand gesture, and ascended straight up over the pitch as if he hadn't a care in the world, although in actuality it was to escape the murmurings and gasps of disbelief that had been arising from the crowd. Warily, Nott, the new and relatively inexperienced Seeker for Venom, followed him.

For a while, there wasn't much for Draco to do being as the Snitch was nowhere in sight. Nott didn't even seem to be looking for it—he had probably been advised to track the other Seeker and steal the Snitch away just before the opposing team was able to score, a typical Slytherin strategy. Let the other side do all the work, but steal all the glory. At first Draco tried to search the crowd for a sneak peak at Hermione, but it was impossible to find her in the sea of people. He then resorted to amusing himself by acting as if he had spotted the Snitch and darting off for a short distance, then watching Nott take off in that direction in response. It reminded Draco of a time back when he was a child when he had once played with a dog and had pretended to throw a stick and watched the dog run off in that direction over and over again to retrieve the non-existent Stick.

As he was smirking at Nott's fourth false-start, he heard, "Malfoy, heads up!" He turned and saw a Bludger aimed right for his head. Quickly, he rotated over his broom as Coote darted up with his club to send the Bludger hurtling towards Harper, whose back was turned. It hit Harper soundly in the shoulder and he fell forward on his broom with a "_Whoof!" _nearly losing his balance. Malfoy snorted with glee. _Not bad, Coote, not bad…_

And then he spotted the Snitch, hovering about 50 feet below Nott, who was too busy watching Draco to even notice it. _Bloody Clot,_ Draco thought as he took off in the direction of the Snitch. Nott immediately followed him and before Draco knew it, they were hurtling side by side after the Snitch, which had taken a dive towards the crowd. Nott aimed a few kicks and shoves at Draco, but Draco's flying experience was superior to Nott's and it only slowed him up briefly. The two Seekers flew at top speed in an arc just above the stadium seating in pursuit of the Snitch, and Draco could hear the gasps of the crowd once again as they zoomed past them in such close proximity, punctuated by several "I still can't believe its" as he elbowed Nott once or twice to try to throw him off-balance.

Draco had managed to pull ahead of Nott slightly and was just reaching towards the Snitch when his vision suddenly swam in front of him and he was temporarily unable to see. Luckily, as he flailed, Nott was unable to pass him and had to pull back suddenly to avoid a crash. When Draco's vision had finally cleared he saw that Harper had had his wand drawn and was cackling evilly at Draco—apparently he had hit Draco with a blurring charm.

_Oh yeah? Well, two can play at that game,_ Draco thought as he whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at Harper, disabling his broom-cushioning charm. This caused Harper to sit down hard on the broom handle with _absolutely no protection_ as he was straddling the broom. Harper let out a rather loud high-pitched whimper in response. From behind him, Draco could hear snickering and looked over his shoulder and was surprised to find Zabini with his hand over his mouth, eyes dancing merrily. But then again, Draco and Zabini had both worked together on figuring out how to disable the broom-cushioning charm the previous year; no wonder Zabini had found it amusing.

"Malfoy!" he heard over his other shoulder. He looked over to see Ginny Weasley diving towards him. "You can't do that; that's cheating!" she shouted at him.

"It's not cheating if the other side's messing around too, Weasley, for crying out loud!" he hollered back.

Ginny shot him a glare as she soared past him, followed by Demelza (_Esmerelda?_) Robins, who grinned as she passed and gave him a thumbs up.

Just then, a time-out was called so that Harper could get a replacement broom. Ginny Weasley called for a huddle, and as all seven Stags formed a tight circle in the air, she immediately turned on Draco. "Malfoy, can you lay off the illegal charms so that you don't get us disqualified?" she said in exasperation.

"Hey, Weasley, they started it! I practically fell off my broom after that blurring charm that Harper fired off at me."

"He _what_?"

"Ohh…is _that_ why you started flailing all over the place?" Demelza broke in.

"Hell, yeah!" Draco shot back.

Coote piped up, "The Slytherins have it in for Malfoy. We've been going bonkers trying to keep up with the amount of Bludgers that they've been aiming at his head. I even missed one," he added with an apologetic look at Draco. Peakes nodded in agreement, but was too winded to speak up.

"Sooo…" Ginny's brow furrowed in thought. "If the Slytherins have it in for our Mr. Malfoy, then we're just going to have to do something about it. We're up by 60 points; all we need to do is keep it clear for Malfoy so that he can do his job and win this game."

"I don't need any help, Weasley!" Draco could feel his face turning red.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Are you telling me that you wouldn't like to see all of us turn on these prats in _full force?_ I must have misjudged you, Malfoy."

Draco couldn't help smirking in response. "Well, if you put it that way…" He was interrupted by the whistle that signaled the end of time-out.

"You know what to do, Stags!" Ginny shouted as the team broke away and flew back into their positions.

The instant the game resumed, the entire tone of it changed. Team Venom had obviously been given instructions by Harper to pay Draco back for the broom-hex incident, and the Silver Stags were ready for them. One of Venom's Beaters wasted no time sending a Bludger hurtling at Draco's head, but Coote was right there to deflect it. As Coote sent it off in the direction of where Zabini was flying, Demelza zoomed past Venom's Beater and pulled his cape over his head. The Beater howled in response as he nearly lost his grip on his broom.

Meanwhile, Peakes had used his Beater club to "accidentally" whack one of Venom's Chasers' broom off-course just as he had whipped out his wand and was pointing it at Draco. It sent the Chaser hurtling away and he nearly crashed into his own team's Keeper, which elicited cheers from the other Stags and also from the majority of the crowd.

Harper, livid with his team's sudden loss of control, faced off directly with Draco. "Malfoy," he bellowed, "you're a dead man!" His wand was drawn, but his anger had slowed him down and Draco was able to get in the first hex. He hit Harper with the same blurring charm that he had been subjected to, and as Harper was cussing and waving his hands around futilely, Draco streaked past him and gave Harper's broom a well-placed kick, sending it spinning in midair.

Just then, another one of Venom's Chasers dashed past Draco shrieking, "AAUUGH!" His face was literally covered in flapping bat wings, and Draco could hear laughter coming from behind him. He looked over to see Ginny Weasley with her wand drawn and a huge grin on her face. "Bat-Bogey hex gets 'em every time!" she crowed merrily.

And that's when Draco spotted it. About 20 feet from Ginny Weasley's shoulder, the Golden Snitch was hovering in midair. He was about to take off after it, but something else caught his eye—a rather large blur tearing at top speed towards the back of the Weaselette's head. _What the hell is that?_ Draco wondered, but then he realized just what it was. Apparently, one of Venom's Beaters had managed to hex _both_ Bludgers into aiming directly at Ginny Weasley. Draco immediately looked around for the Stags' Beaters, but they were both occupied with fending off other Venom players and hadn't spotted the double-Bludger.

_Dammit, but the Snitch is right there…_ Draco yelled, but Ginny was too occupied with firing off another Bat-Bogey hex at Nott ("YEEOW!"), and didn't hear Draco's warning. Time seemed to almost stop as Draco warred with himself—_the Snitch is right there, but a double Bludger would do a hell of a lot of damage. But the Snitch is right there…_

Then Draco realized how Hermione must feel at the moment, having to watch helplessly as a double-Bludger hurtled towards the back of her best friend's head. _Bugger me to all hell,_ Draco thought as he blasted off into the pathway of the rogue Bludgers, making it there just as they were about to slam into the Weaselette.

They slammed into him instead.

As the impact knocked the wind out of him, Draco's vision seemed to explode. In front of him appeared a myriad of spots, and in his painful stupor he could have sworn that one of them resembled the Golden Snitch. He made a grab for it as he felt himself black out and begin to fall from his broom. The last thing he remembered was a rather loud roar, but he wasn't sure if it was coming from the crowd or from the inside of his own head.


	24. Finale

Chapter 24—Finale

"Wow. I've never seen anything like that. How did he manage to fall in slow motion?"

"That happened to me once in third year. When I woke up in the infirmary, I remember you guys telling me about how Dumbledore had slowed my fall in midair so that I didn't hit the ground like a sack of troll dung."

"That's where I got the idea from, Harry. I just hope that it helped…he doesn't seem to be moving at all!"

_That voice sounded quite familiar, _Draco thought._ It might just be enough to get me to decide to actually move and maybe even open my eyes…although I never realized how much my body form-fitted to the ground before._

"Is he dead?"

"He is _not_ dead! He's just been knocked out! Oh, where is Madame Pomfrey?" _That voice again…and boy, was it neurotic, too._

"Madame Hooch went to go get her. They should be back in a minute or so…calm down..."

"I can't believe he took those Bludgers for you, Ginny."

"I know; if he doesn't wake up soon, I'm going to feel guilty for the rest of my life."

"You? _We're_ the ones who should have been there; we're the ones with the clubs!"

_Yeah, you sub-par excuses for Beaters,_ Draco thought as he heard himself groan.

"Hey, he's alive!"

Draco felt two hands on his chest and a voice blared in his ear, "Draco! Draco! Are you all right? Say something!" Although the neurotic voice was magnified a hundredfold due to the excessive pounding that was going on in his head, it was music to his ears.

"Granger," he gasped, keeping his eyes closed just until his head stopped spinning. "Stop yelling. I think my head's going to explode." She clutched his hand in hers and her other hand flew to his head. "Oh, thank Merlin," she breathed, relief oozing out of her voice. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see Hermione's face close to his, compassion radiating from her every pore. He instantly felt better and tilted his head so that it leaned into her touch. She began to gently stroke his hair.

"Oh, Draco…Draco…you beautiful, infuriating, vexing, wonderful _prat!_ I could just kill you if you hadn't very nearly done it yourself!" Hermione scolded him as she leaned down and kissed him on the temple. _Ah. I'm sure that if I didn't feel like my spleen was in my throat at the moment, I would have enjoyed that._ "Why would you do such a crazy thing?" she whispered, her voice catching with emotion.

He closed his eyes once again. "You know why, Granger," he murmured, stroking the back of her hand once or twice with his thumb.

Hermione touched her forehead to his and whispered back softly, "I do, Draco, I do."

"Aww…what a tender moment!"

"Young looooooove!"

Wolf-whistles and catcalls abounded and Hermione self-consciously sat up, although she didn't relinquish her hold on his hand and continued to stroke his hair. Draco managed to let go of the Snitch with his other hand (he _had_ caught it, which meant that they had won…_all right)_ and lift it to make a rude hand gesture to the other voices, a few of whom hooted in response.

"Yep, he's going to live, all right."

"Malfoy," Ginny Weasley's voice pulled his focus upward. He opened his eyes to encounter a veritable ring of Silver Stag faces staring down at him from above, their expressions awash with concern and relief. "If this is what you'll go through to win a game, I don't know if you're going to last the entire season," she joked in an unsteady voice. Ginny was attempting to look calm, but not quite pulling it off—he must have taken one hell of a fall.

Some of the other Stags chimed in, "Good job, Malfoy!", "Yeah, wicked flying!", "Great win for the Silver Stags!"

Then there was a hesitation as the ring of Gryffindors parted to reveal a new face that tentatively peeked down at him. It was a face that Draco never would have expected to see—Blaise Zabini, who looked more than a bit startled himself. "Malfoy," he said hesitatingly, "are you all right?"

Bemused, Draco slowly nodded his head at Blaise, which made his vision swim. "Yeah…I'm just _peachy_," Draco groaned with a shadow of his characteristic smirk. Blaise let out a slow breath and backed up to the edge of the small crowd. _Well, well…guess Zabini's not as much of a total berk as I thought he was. _They had gotten along rather well at one time, Draco reflected. Mainly because Zabini actually had more of a brain than most of the people that Draco used to hang around with.

As Draco's vision finally began to clear, he looked around at the odd assortment of students who had congregated around him. Hermione, of course, was right there holding his hand, but Ginny Weasley, the Silver Stags, and even Saint Scarhead looked even more concerned than he had initially realized. _Hmmm…surprising…_ The Weasel King (who had seemed worried at first, but now that it looked like Draco hadn't suffered any irreparable damage) was trying to hold back a snicker at the sight of Draco lying spread-eagled on the ground. _And _not_ surprising. Blasted git_. Blaise Zabini was still milling around off to the side rather awkwardly, and he even seemed to be checking out Morag MacDougal, who was flanked by Tweedledum and Tweedledee Patil. Both Morag and Padma looked alarmed, but Parvati had an expression on her face that appeared to be a little disappointed that the fall hadn't killed him. _Harpy from hell. When I manage to peel myself off of this field…_

"All right everyone, all right," came a new, rather authoritative voice from above. "Give the poor boy some breathing room." It was Madame Pomfrey, followed by a floating stretcher. The ring of students that had clustered themselves around Draco began to back away as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and Draco felt his body lift and begin to levitate towards the stretcher. His head swam again with the movement and he heard himself groan, but luckily Hermione hadn't surrendered her grip on his hand. He chose to focus on the feel of her hand in his instead of the dipping and diving sensation that was going on in his head that felt like a broom ride from hell. _Urgh…_

"It's to the infirmary for you, Mr. Malfoy, as I'm sure you know," Madame Pomfrey said to Draco as soon as he was settled on the stretcher. He nodded his head in response, then groaned again as his vision blurred and his head pounded. _Bugger. That was really, really stupid… _He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together so that he wouldn't vomit.

"I'm going too," he heard Hermione say.

"Miss Granger, you can visit Mr. Malfoy _after_ I've seen to him. For now, I've got this under control." Madame Pomfrey said briskly.

"Madame Pomfrey, I _said_ that I'm going too. I'm afraid I'll have to insist." Hermione's voice had taken on that obstinate quality Draco knew so well. _Stubborn, stubborn Gryffindor,_ he thought with a smirk as he gave her hand a little squeeze.

There was a moment of silence. Madame Pomfrey and Hermione must have had a bit of a stare-down, of which Hermione apparently won because then he heard Madame Pomfrey say, "Very well, Miss Granger, if you must. But _no one_ else," she added to the rest of the students that were still in the vicinity.

Draco then felt the stretcher begin to move again, most certainly towards the infirmary. _Oh, bloody hell…_ The movement was doing horrible things to his equilibrium. As he felt himself begin to lapse into the blessed blackness of unconsciousness, he heard the rest of his…_team_ shouting, "Great game, Malfoy! Hip, hip…" And then there was nothing.

Draco spent a couple of days in the infirmary, of which Hermione spent practically every moment that she wasn't in class right there with him. She even ate her meals with Draco, and of course she brought textbooks from all of his classes to ensure that his days in the infirmary wouldn't cause him to fall behind in his schoolwork (perish forbid!). As much as Draco enjoyed having her there, he was less than enthusiastic about having Hermione cram schoolwork down his throat, so he got her to stop by either falling asleep or pulling her in for the occasional snog. On his last night there, he also managed to get Hermione to agree to make something for him that he needed, and she headed off to the library in order to get the information required in order to complete it.

The next morning, Draco was once again lounging at the foot of the Slytherin table for breakfast (_Old habits die hard,_ he reflected) with Hermione at his side. The other Slytherins, all squashed at the other end of the table as far away from the two of them as possible, were pointedly ignoring both him and Hermione. Smirking at Hermione as he watched her cut up her waffle into bite-sized pieces, he leaned in and muttered, "You're sure it's going to work?"

"Yes," she whispered back. "I followed the instructions exactly. Now how do you plan on getting it into their—" she stopped as Ginny strolled up to the table with a satisfied grin on her face.

Draco sneered at her. "I still don't see my Quidditch magazine, Weasley."

"Oh, pipe down, Malfoy. If I give it back, you may never show up to practice again. It's in my best interests to keep it."

Draco glared at her and sighed in exasperation. "Well, what about the 'mission'?" he demanded.

"Oh, it's all set. Now all we have to do is sit back and watch," Ginny said smugly.

Hermione gave Draco a questioning look. He shrugged. "Hey, she owed me a favor," he said as he took a swig of his pumpkin juice. _Speaking of pumpkin juice,_ he thought as he, Hermione and Ginny all leaned forward with avid interest to watch the Patil twins, who were sitting at a nearby table.

Parvati and Padma Patil were taking sips of their pumpkin juice. In perfect unison, they slowly set down their glasses as their expressions became vague for a moment, and then turned unabashedly giddy. As one, they jumped up from their table and started to squeal, "Harper!" "Nott!"

As the Patils pointed and shrieked, Draco looked over at Harper and Nott, who had stood up at the Slytherin table and were looking both horrified and revolted.

"HARPER, I LOVE YOU!"

"NOTT, IF YOU WON'T BE MINE, I'LL _DIE!"_

Both girls started to charge full speed towards them, and the Slytherin boys grew wide-eyed and made a break for the exit. As the Patils ran past Draco's end of the table screaming, "HARPER!" "NOTT!" "WAIT FOR US!" Draco, chuckling, leaned in to Hermione and whispered in her ear, "Granger, have I told you that I love you?"

Hermione gave him a tart little smile, but her eyes were shining. "No, you right foul git. And it's about time!"

He grinned back and leaned in further to give her a kiss. _All was right with the world…_

END

**And so ends my favorite fan fic (*sniff*)…although the sequel (and yes, there IS a sequel) is very special to me as well. The third in this series—**_**Hogwarts Respite**_**—is actually what inspired me to start writing my original novel! For those of you who are interested, I will start posting **_**Respite **_**in a day or two—keep checking for it. And I'd like to give a big thank you to those of you who gave this a try, and especially to those of you who have been kind enough to review...I really, _really _do love hearing from you guys. Not to mention the fact that the reviews are what motivate me to keep writing, so you have my eternal gratitude!**

**Also, I wanted to mention that I've been working on a project with another fanfic author—a private forum where we'll be posting not only all of our fanfiction but also the original stuff I've been working on, including material from the Original Novel I've almost finished. Basically, all of my work, including material that has never been posted before will be there (no waiting), and it will be accessible via membership. So if you're interested in accessing more of my current material, please PM me for early membership. :)**

**Thanks again for giving me the privilege of entertaining you!**

**Purps (a/k/a Purpleheart72)**

**xo**


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